


Beautiful Undone

by ectothermal, LPSunnyBunny



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Background Sexual Abuse, Background child abuse, Consent Issues Inherent To Narrative Manipulation, Death for the purposes of Godtier, F/M, Multiple Orgasms, Narrative Bullshit, POV Alternating, POV First Person, Possessive Behavior, RP Style Formatting, Sibling Incest, The Homestuck Epilogues, Universe Traversing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-27
Updated: 2020-10-27
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:27:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 22,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27224221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ectothermal/pseuds/ectothermal, https://archiveofourown.org/users/LPSunnyBunny/pseuds/LPSunnyBunny
Summary: Ultimate Dirk finds himself somewhere new. That's not really the important thing. The important thing iswhohe finds in this new place.
Relationships: Dirk Strider/Original Character(s)
Kudos: 1





	Beautiful Undone

**Author's Note:**

> [Now with art from the INCREDIBLE Kinkmom! ](https://twitter.com/kink_mom/status/1341893438002888704)!

I don't know where I am.

There's a sickening pull and twist and a sideways shift, and for a long, painful, dizzying moment, I don't know where I am. The narrative that flows through my fingers is stilted, clunky, strange and unused to being commanded. Unused to being  _ read _ .

I have ended up somewhere completely new, completely alien, and very, very interesting.

I can feel myself in this world. I always reach to myself, no matter what self it is. It's a combination of splintering bullshit and narrative powers, don't ask.

When I reach out, though, I don't get any response at all, which is... strange. This strange, stilted version of myself- I can feel my own  _ potential _ , but it's dormant. Untapped, unused,  _ unawakened _ . I've never felt it this way before. Every version of myself I have encountered has had their potential awake, had their eyes open.

Not only is this version of myself asleep, their eyes are glued shut, have anchors wrapped around them, and have been dropped to the bottom of the mariana trench. It's not that their potential has been locked away, it's that it's  _ never gotten the ability to bloom. _

That in itself tells me everything I need to know.

Somehow, inexplicably, I have ended up in a world where there is no SBURB. No game, no powers, no Derse and Prospit, no Skaia, no Reckoning.

No Lord English.

I don't know if I should be jealous or pitying. For my own sanity I'm going to go with neither, and focus on what's distracting me most from being in this universe.

The narrative.

It's... strange. Letting the words of the narrative flow through my fingers, or rather, the metaphor of fingers of what's easiest to visualize in this medium, it's somehow both purer, and yet more distilled. No corrupting influences, but... watered down. Less potent.

Is the narrative only alive here because I have come to give it form? Or does narrative exist but I cannot see it because now I am the dominant narrative force in this universe? It's the philosophy question about the tree all over again.

Does a narrative exist if there is no one to narrate it? Does a narrative exist if there is no one to  _ read _ it?

I suppose that's not the right question to be asking. I exist to narrate it. I exist to read it, as does anyone reading this narration. That in itself creates legitimacy.

Why am I rambling on about this?

Well, perhaps it's to disguise the fact that, from being shoved through universes into this one, I ended up falling onto a couch head-first, rolling off of it, and hitting the floor and eating shit.

Not very graceful, I know. I lift my head up to observe where I have landed.

It's an apartment. A familiar-but-not-too-familiar apartment- it's clearly a Strider Residence, but not one that I have ever seen. Don't ask me how I know this, if you were a Strider you would understand, and if you're not- well, maybe I can try and explain it to you.

It's the little things. The art on the walls. The projects laying about. The shuriken sticking notes to the fridge. The SBAHJ references.

Okay, maybe it's not so hard to see that it's a Strider residence. But it's an empty one (is it? there's something strange here-). This-universe-me is out doing something that... doesn't feel particularly narratively interesting, so I'll ignore him. I can't feel Bro in the apartment, whichever version it is, mine or Dave's-

Ah. It's mine.

That's weird. I have a chance to meet a version of my Bro- and I really,  _ really _ don't want to. I'm not sure if it's a sentiment of 'never meet your heroes' or if it's a sentiment of 'that's not  _ my _ Bro', but that means I need to get the ever loving fuck out of this world as fast as I can.

After my head stops spinning. I'll just lie here for a minute. Face down on the floor. Just for a bit. Whatever knocked me between worlds fucked up my sense of balance a bit, because everything feels very slightly spinny.

Maybe two minutes. That's fine.

  
  


It's a quiet, boring afternoon. Doll doesn't often have the apartment to themself, crowded in by either Dirk or their Daddy, so the opportunity to sprawl out on their shared bed in the stuttering breeze from the fan in the corner is more than welcome. They haven't bothered getting dressed, haven't bothered getting  _ un _ dressed either, content in their panties and an old ratty shirt that Daddy saved from his childhood in the 90s; there's nothing and no one to perform for, no need to please, until their Daddy and brother come home.

Their sweat leaves the sheets sticking to their skin as they shift, dropping their phone onto the mattress with the intention of drifting off into a hazy afternoon nap, but a loud banging from the living room jolts them into alertness. Odd - they hadn't heard the front door open. Carefully, they pick themselves out of bed, tiptoeing to the corner to snatch Daddy's mostly-disused sword before they creep through the half-open door to the hallway.

They jump through the doorway to the living room all at once, sword held out in front of them in defense; they feel pretty stupid doing it, having never been trained to use it. They don't see much but a touch of magenta fabric, and underneath it - they sigh as they recognize the back of Dirk's carefully styled yet wild hair, setting the sword against the wall.

"Bro," they say, skirting their way around the couch to see their brother in full view. Completely face down on the floor, which tracks. He's dramatic like that. They nudge his shoulder with their bare toes, which they note feels bigger, somehow more solid than normal. "The fuck? Where's dad? Why do you look like some kinda Ninja Gaiden asshole?"

  
  


....

What the fuck?

Someone nudges my shoulder. I thought the apartment was empty, but apparently  _ not _ , and I don't know if I should blame that on the narrative being wonky here or my own brain fuzzing out from the blunt force trauma (narrative force trauma?) of getting shoved through universes, but there are toes lightly nudging into my shoulder.

The narrative adapts to encompass them, and, still face down on the floor, I very lightly slide into their head. Just the tiniest little skim, hardly anything at all. Their powers are dormant, they do seem to be of Heart aspect, but I doubt they will even be able to feel it.

Hm. Alright. That's... interesting. I am going to very very lightly keep the narrative separated. I don't know what it will do if I tug the tentative narrative grasp they have out of their hands, but I have a feeling it won't be pretty.

Besides, there's a lot of shit in their head that I'm not going to air out in the narrative. Even  _ I _ have tact, I know what you're thinking, so keep it to yourself. I might be a villain, but I'm not a monster.

If you want to know what's going on in their head, they'll have to tell you themself. Get over it.

Their name is Doll. They're certainly no Alpha Timeline Strider, not even a mirror of one. But they are  _ a _ Strider. That makes us family, in a sideways one-step-removed sense. That means I should do my best not to fuck this up.

I roll over onto my back and look up at them.

They're.... small. A strange first word to use to describe them, maybe, but thats the one that immediately comes to mind, so y'all can shut the hell up.

They've got a sword clutched loosely in one hand, but their grip on it is awkward. Unpracticed.

A Strider that doesn't use a sword? The mystery grows. Is this world simply weaponless, or are they untrained?

No, that's stupid. Shuriken notes on the fridge. Striders are Striders, no matter the universe. That makes it even more peculiar that Doll seems to be untrained. They're  _ well _ past the age of starting training.

......I doubt it's because they have the body of a girl. I don't think Bro- either of them- would think that that's a reason for someone to not learn how to fight.

They're wearing Strider shades, of course- and it's their own style- circles with star lenses, gold. It's cute- makes them look like they're trying to be a movie star. They've got the Strider blond hair, but they're not toned like years of strifing would cause- they're soft in places and  _ very _ generous in others.

.....I had been trying not to bring it up, but at this angle, I can absolutely see up their shirt. Combination of large breasts and loose shirt? Yeah. Right on to peeksville town.

"Howdy." I say. "I think I'm lost."

That's always the best way to start a conversation. I try to sit up and everything goes a little fuzzy.

I should probably stay on the floor for a bit. There's an ache right between my temples that feels distinctly meta-narrative. That's what happens when you get shoved from one story to another, I suppose.

I lie back down on the floor. It's solid, which is more than what I can say for myself.

  
  


Dirk takes his sweet time even acknowledging Doll's presence - he stays firmly planted on his face for a few long moments, silent. Doll stares at him, nonplussed, while they wait. The cape is really something else - all Evil Queen from Snow White in the stand-up collar, and in a color they're fairly certain Dirk would rather die than be caught wearing.

A tickle in the back of their mind has them shaking off a chill; by the time they recover from the involuntary quake, Dirk has rolled over onto his back.

He's obviously Dirk, but he can't be their brother. He looks several years older, no baby fat on his face anymore, and he's bulked up in ways that teen boys struggle to. He looks even more like he's two months early to the nearest anime convention in Houston now that Doll can see the whole 'fit, with the cloth wrappings on his forearms and shins, and the dumb sandals that don't even match the rest of his outfit. "Dude, is this a crisis? This looks like a full-blown crisis.”

He's quiet for a moment, and even through his shades - bright amber now, rather than their brother's typical black - they can tell he's looking right up their shirt. Doll huffs a soft laugh through their nose, giving a little shimmy of their shoulders for his benefit.

"I'll say," they nod in agreement. "Anime Matsuri isn't until August." They hold their hand out to help Dirk when he tries to sit up, but he collapses back down without much of a fight. Damn. He must have really took one right to the noggin. Doll squats down, shifting to sit against the side of the couch beside Dirk's head.

"So. You're not my brother," they point out the obvious as they slide their daddy's sword across the floor - out of the way, under his desk. "How'd you get in here?"

  
  


What, do you expect me to make a titty joke? Say something juvenile like 'haha boobies'? Sorry to disappoint. Though they may shimmy, and their breasts may bounce in a wondrous fashion, I am no cretin. I shall simply appreciate the sight and move on.

They ask if it's a crisis. Is it? Well, seeing as I have no idea what sling-shotted me here into this world, I have no idea. I don't know if it was a big final battle, I don't know if it was a desperate suicide attempt. I don't know if it was the whim of a god or someone grander than myself simply plucking me from one world and plopping me into the next.

So, without context of  _ why _ , I can only assume that no, these events did not come about in the form of a universe-hopping crisis.

....unless they mean the  _ everything else _ bit, in which case a psychologist could dubiously classify it as "maybe", my friends would classify it as "Dirk being an absolute jackass of a villain", and I would classify it as a "narratively necessary crisis". So, from a point of view, the answer is yes. This could, technically, be considered a crisis.

Still, the ribbing tells me one thing. If there were any doubts left about them being a Strider (there isn't), that mix of sarcastic concern proves that they really are one.

They take a seat and slide away the sword which is smart if they don't know how to use it. Don't give your enemy a potential weapon and all that.

That was a weird, stray thought. I'm not their enemy.

Hm. Do they not have sylladexes, here? It would have been easier and simpler to just capatchalogue it.

"It's complicated." I say. "I'm your brother, but I'm not." I don't try getting up again, I can still feel a woozyness in the back of my head, like a whip being coiled with the threat of  _ stay down bitch _ . "I got in here through some extremely metatextual bullshit that involved me getting shoved through the text of the universes and crash-landing here."

Honestly, that makes me concerned, being unable to remember how I got here. What will the state of canon be like when I get back? Will it have frozen with it's narrator gone, or will it have continued along on without me?

I don't know what's scarier. The idea that I might have doomed my friends to a world without narration and progression, or that it continues on without me just fine.

  
  


His voice is nice, smooth and evened out - Doll's brother's voice is in the extra deep mixed with random squeaky breaks phase of late puberty. It draws fondness from Doll's chest, and it takes them a minute to realize that what he's said doesn't actually make any sense.

"Ha,  _ what _ ?" Well. They realize, a little late, that it makes about as much sense as an adult version of their brother lying on their living room floor in a dorky heart-ninja outfit. "Meta-what? Aight, I have no idea what text you're talkin' about, this is real life, bro."

It's obvious Dirk is dealing with a little more than just a recovering equilibrium - he's never been one to put his pain on display, but Doll's never been one to let it go ignored, either.

"Hey, don't freak out, aight?" They scoot closer, folding their legs and gently lifting his head and neck to rest in their lap instead of on the hard floor. Settled, their thumbs press purposefully at his temples, gentle circles and firm backward strokes. "I'd just give you somethin' to take," they murmur, a little apologetic to have manhandled him into their lap, but not terribly, "but everything Daddy's got is kinda heavy-duty."

  
  


I realize abruptly that without the knowledge of the game or anything at all really of the Alpha Timeline, the words I said made absolutely no sense.

I don't get a chance to immediately correct this, though, because Doll is easing my head up and putting it in their lap. I probably shouldn't let them do this, but what's the harm? They're a non-canon (are they? are they not canon simply by my presence being here, legitimizing them?) Strider, so I shouldn't get  _ too _ attached immediately.

Their hands settle on my temples, though, beginning to stroke and rub and wow. Yeah.  _ That _ hits right in the narrative. A lot of the tangled, jumbled thoughts in my head start to settle down and smooth out.

There's still a big ol' blank patch of what caused this, but... it doesn't hurt quite as bad to think about.

Also-  _ Daddy _ ? That's a new one. They must be talking about Bro. It's weird hearing him be referred to as anything other than  _ Bro _ , but-

Yeah, no, I was going to rationalize it away but it still sounds weird no matter what I come up with.

"This is fine." I say. Anything too heavy-duty might knock me out and I would  _ really _ rather prefer to avoid that. Spending hours suspended in the blackness of the narrative's mercy in an unfamiliar universe sounds like torture at  _ best _ .

I'll just sit here with my... alternate-universe little sibling's (?) thumbs slowly working at my temples, driving away the massive headache in my skull.

"Incredible." I muse. "Not even ten minutes into this misplaced universe escapade and I have already managed to make a fool of myself not only physically, but verbally as well. I failed to couch my language into a form that one without access- or even understanding of- the narrative would understand."

I tilt my head up slightly. "I'm from another universe," I say bluntly, "and I don't know how I got here."

  
  


_ Thaaat's _ the ticket. Both Doll's daddy and their Dirk suffer frequent headaches, overloaded with stress piled on mostly from their own minds; Doll's gotten good at working them away, good at seeing the strings of stress loosen in their faces as they do. This Dirk might not be theirs, but the subtle intricacies of his barely-present expressions are the same. They smile down at him, fond and familiar, as their fingers keep working on the massage in practiced patterns - they barely have to think about them, anymore.

"Good. Wouldn't feel right givin' you any of that shit anyway."

They can only laugh as he chides himself, head shaking at how familiar it is to the soft murmuring of their brother in the middle of the night while working on one of his many projects.

"What's with y'all Dirks and everything being a success or failure, anyway? Can't just eat shit and say somethin' dumb, laugh about it 'n move on?"

Dirk at least provides a clarification on what he means, and Doll nods, staring through the wall in thought. "I knew the multiverse was real," they murmur, distantly. "S'too bad you don't know how you did it, and also that it seems to have knocked you on your ass. It'd be fun to see other places. See what Daddy's up to somewhere else. See if everyone looks like a Gurren Lagann reject too or if it's just you."

  
  


Doll's fingers work so well over my temples- it's clear that they've done this before. There's a tiny flicker of jealousy at how much time they must get to spend with Bro, but it's quickly wiped away in the face of  _ it doesn't matter. _

Success or failure, though? That's an interesting way of putting it. Every Dirk I have reached out to or assimilated across other timelines have all been shaped by the same base experiences- everything before the game.

The world where  _ success _ meant survival, meant living another day, meant getting to see his friends one day. The world where  _ failure _ was dangerous, where  _ failure _ could be death, where it meant being alone and cold and stuck in an empty world forever.

It's interesting to know, though, that in a world where another self does not have that foundation- the trait remains. Perhaps that says more about me as a being than my upbringing. It would be interesting to compare selves across universes and timelines and find the core things that apparently make me  _ me _ across everything.

I wonder if any of my other selves have a tendancy towards the same kind of self-aggrandizing behaviors. I feel like I'm probably using that word wrong, but I can't bring myself to care.

Doll says they knew the multiverse was real. I wonder if that's due to their latent Heart aspect, or if it's just something they believed in. The distant quality to their tone makes me believe the former.

My heart aches a touch as I think about my Bro. I still wish I could go back and meet him, sometimes, but I know better than to shred the narrative apart for a momentary indulgence. It would be a horrendous mistake. Maybe that's why I want to be gone before this World's Bro returns. Some part of myself screaming that it's not worth it, it will destroy everything, don't be selfish.

It's not important. I am sure the method of travel will return to me-

"Excuse you, that sounds rather like you are critizing Strider Fashion." I say, the words slipping out before I can stop them. "I'll have you know that it is extremely uncool to do that, besides for all you know I  _ am _ a Gurren Lagann reject in which case that would be incredibly hurtful, Doll, is that what you want to do? Hurt your brother from another universe? That's cold. Cold and cruel, Doll, cold and cruel."

  
  


The way Dirk talks says everything Doll needs to know about how his head feels - he's clearly relaxed, his words just tumbling out, unfettered, the way their daddy gets when he thinks he's alone. Their fingers stop the massage, instead lightly sweeping over his forehead, cheekbones, and jaw, before sinking into his hair to pet him.

"Yeah, s'what I've been doing since you landed here," they shrug, with a wide, cheeky smile. "Look, you're a fuckin' beefcake, so you can clearly get away with it, but you gotta admit, this is... a choice." They laugh through a sigh, fingers running gentle and steady through his thick hair.

"Aight, I'm sorry you got rejected by Gurren Lagann, the anime series. You look very handsome and I'll never insult your fashion sense ever again. Tell me where your feelings boo-boo is and I'll kiss it better, even."

  
  


Doll seems to realize they've smoothed away the worst of my headache, so they switch their motions. It's like being pet, their rhythmic stroking sending little ripples of relaxation down my spine.

It's almost... nice. Just a casual touch with no ulterior motive, just a steady, regular contact with the intent of just helping, just touching, just trying to be reassuring.

I wonder how long it's been since I've gotten a touch like this. It's been a long time. I almost can't remember. It's strange- I've always held-

Wait.

No. What the fuck is happening? I am not about to go into a _ spiral of sentiment _ . Sorry, readers, but this is not show-and-tell-all-emotional-bullshit-time with Dirk. Is Doll doing this somehow? No, they can't be, their powers are dormant from being in a seedless world.

Is it the sentiment of meeting a new sibling? The novelty of it, of getting to pick apart a new universe's worth of experiences? Is it their wide, cheeky grin, completely Strider and yet so unrestrained, unfettered?

What kind of Bro is in this universe? Why-

I wrench my thoughts back to the present.  _ Something _ is clearly affecting me. I would never be this sordid and full-frontal emotions-wise in the Alpha Timeline.

"Thank you." I say dryly. "I am sure your repentance will be lengthy and reverent for daring to insult a Strider's fashion sense. I expect at least four years of mourning with full black attire required, then you can transition to half-mourning for another two. Wailing and beating your breast and falling to your knees whenever you see me is to be expected. Even eek out a single tear, perhaps."

  
  


This Dirk is no less prone to random bouts of heavy introspection than Doll's brother is, it seems. Maybe more so, but Doll is willing to give the benefit of the doubt - he  _ did _ just crash land into a new universe, right onto his head, after all. They look down at him, one eyebrow raised in amusement, as he goes in on the proper way to show they're truly sorry for disrespecting the drip.

"All black is kinda already my look, dude, how will anyone know the difference between my mourning and just being, like, a big titty goth girlfriend on the regs?" They tilt their head side to side, as if in thought, but the barely-repressed smirk on their face easily gives away that they're just going to continue to tease. "Unless by half-mourning you mean I can wear crop tops again."

"Just the one tear?" they continue, still petting. "You sure? The going rate on Doll tears is like, super cheap. Any emotion of tears you want, I got 'em." It feels weird to have to tell their own brother that they're a weepy person, as convoluted and Strider as they've chosen to do it. It feels like something he should already know. "Anyway... Hey, you feelin' good enough to sit up? Don't get me wrong, I can pet you as long as you want, but the floor ain't exactly the most comfortable place to do it."

  
  


"Crop tops are expressly forbidden when in full mourning." I say. "They are acceptable half-mourning attire."

Where the fuck are we going with this bit? Whatever, I already committed to it and Doll seems to be enjoying it well enough.

"Excessive weeping is unacceptable." I continue. "A single, solitary tear tugs on all of the heartstrings. It's why every movie ever does it. A cascade of weeping tears just makes everyone uncomfortable."

I do feel a little more stable, though. Might as well make an attempt.

With all the grace of a tipsy panther, I slowly push up to a sitting position. My arms shake ever so slightly with an ache that seems to go right down to the bone, but they hold.

"Would you look at that." I muse. "Apparently my body has decided to cooperate again. Will the miracles never cease."

Pretty sure I still can't stand, though. My legs are feeling distinctly insubstantial.

  
  


"Damn," Doll laughs, "you just eliminated all of my shirts. I'm gonna have to go titties-out for mourning. Is that what you wanted, Dirk. Is this all an elaborate ploy to get the titties out." Their mouth twists with the effort it takes to keep the laughter out of their voice long enough to pull off the flat, deadpan tone they're going for.

Still, it comes out in a puff off air, a little  _ pfff _ as he describes why, exactly, they cannot cry for real. "Of course it makes people uncomfortable. Strong emotions are a disruption. Repressing that doesn't really do anyone any favors."

Dirk isn't super stable as he sits up, so Doll shifts forward to sit on their knees, hands braced on his back. And if they feel around the muscles there a little bit, well, they're only human. Can they really be faulted for it?

"Amazing what a massage can do," Doll agrees, though their tone is dry. "Not gonna lie to you, dude, you still don't look too hot. And... I dunno when Daddy and Dirk are comin' home, but... I don't think that meetup is gonna go too well, y'know?" Their voice turns hesitant, apologetic, as they try to weave through impressing that this Dirk shouldn't be here when their family gets home without having to air out any of the reasons why.

  
  


This is getting strangely incestious for a joke, but I don't mind. It's not like the concept's ever really bothered me- all of my friends and I are related anyway through the primordial ectobiology goop. It's not so different if we all had our genes violently mushed together and turned into a goop which was then used to create clones of ourselves sent back in time where we all share the same base blocks of DNA just slightly nudged around versus if we all came from the same person.

It doesn't really matter if Doll is my alternate-universe younger sibling. I can still appreciate their banging rack because it wouldn't be any different than if they were in my universe.

"Truly you have uncovered my schemes." I say dryly. "It was all a ruse to get you to remove your top. Get them titties out."

They stabilizes me as I sit up, and yeah, they're definitely copping a feel of my muscles. Hm. Maybe it's not quite a joke.

I shake my head a little and take a deep breath.

"Yeah, meeting an alternate universe version of yourself never goes well." I say dryly, but the turn of their voice makes something in the back of my head sit up and go watchful. "The first thing you know it's all 'oh, cool, neat, lets be best buds' but then it turns into 'what if you're evil me' and then before you know it someone's decapitated."

I consider my options.

"I'm not really sure that I can move a whole not right now, though, which puts a damper on the whole thing."

I concentrate on the narrative. It seems to be cooperating right now. I doubt I could make an attempt back home, but I bet I could bullshit a travel montage and slip us from one place to the next.

"Hey." I say, and turn to look at them. "Pretty sure I can't go home yet. Where's a better place for us to chill the fuck out while my equilibrium stabilizes?"

  
  


Doll's laugh this time is hearty, unrestrained - yeah, if they weren't occupied with helping Dirk stay upright, and also behind him where he can't enjoy the view, and also feeling him up a little bit, they'd be whipping their titties out  _ post-haste _ . They're great tits, they deserve appreciation.

"Oh, so you've done this before?" they tease. "Nah, the problem is that Dirk would go, 'fuck,  _ I'm _ the evil me' and then spiral into an existential crisis leading to a deep depression leading to an elaborate plan to off his own head." Doll pointedly does not mention that the real problem they foresee in a meeting is their Daddy.

The effect that this universe-jump seems to have had on Dirk's body is, well. Interesting, to say the least. Inconvenient, certainly. It limits their options on where they can go.

"The roof?" they suggest. It's close enough that Dirk could make it. There  _ are _ the stairs to contend with, but it's not like anybody is gonna see him and eternally damage his pride if he ends up having to crawl his way up there. And then, when Dirk and their daddy  _ do _ come home, they can be right down to assure them that they were not, in fact, abducted.

  
  


Doll's laugh is light and surprisingly infectious. I find myself huffing along in amusement, and it feels  _ good _ .

_ So you've done this before? _ In a sense, you could say that.

"That tracks." I say, about my other self. "Spiral of depression and existantial crisus, check. Determination towards self-destruction, check. Sounds about right."

I am not going to think about how those things relate to me, thank you, so  _ kindly shut the hell up _ before you start pointing fingers,  _ dear readers. _

"The roof sounds good, though." I say, and close my eyes and here we go.

Narrative powers are weird. I can describe the motions we'd take to get up to the roof, I could describe my limbs suddenly being filled with power enough to walk up there.

Or I could also say one moment, we are sitting in the living room, and then we are on the roof.

It's warm up here, but thankfully it's late evening when the temperature has started to drop. The roof is cast with rays of the setting set, putting everything into a soft, hazy glow as we lean against one of the large ventilation units on the roof.

"Poof." I say dryly and give a groan, tilting my head back to rest against the metal. That fucking took way more effort that I thought it would and now my whole fucking body feels weak again,  _ great _ .

  
  


Doll's Kermit-faced nodding is mostly for themself as they listen to Dirk check off the consistencies in their brother's attitude with his own. They wish that  _ a _ Dirk, somewhere, could like himself and believe that he's good, but they always kind of knew it was a long shot.

"Okay, cool, I'll get my -" they start, intending to grab their phone and maybe some shorts before they head up, but they don't make it anywhere to get much of anything before they find themself on the roof. With Dirk.

"Hey," they say, blinking in disorientation and confusion. "What the fuck."

Dirk seems  _ wiped _ . Doll abandons their own concerns, like how they got there, or their feet and ass burning on the sun-baked surface of the roof, to tend to him. "Dude, you good?" they ask, resting one hand on his chest, the other supporting the back of his neck.

  
  


Doll's hand is on the back of my neck and it feels cool against my now-sweat-damp skin.

Yeah. That might have been a mistake but fuck it. I really didn't want to walk up the stairs so abuse of my godtier powers has got to be useful for  _ something _ . Even if I now feel like I have to puke.

I take a couple of deep breaths until I feel better.

"On a scale of one to five stars please rate your first experience with teleportational powers." I say, trying for humor despite the pounding  _ ache _ in my limbs from abusing the narrative to teleport us instead of narrating up walking up the damn stairs. "If your experience has been less than satisfactory, please inform the nearest Dirk Strider and he will proceed to do absolutely nothing to fix the experience due to currently getting his ass beat by his own damn abilities."

  
  


The attempt to joke is valiant despite his obvious struggle - he's sweat-drenched and pale, looking like he might be sick as much as he might just collapse. Doll's eyebrows merge in concern, mostly ignoring the rest of the spiel as they try to assess what they should do for him. It's getting cooler and darker, so if they get him to lie down, he shouldn't either bake or get blinded.

"Two stars, it was pretty sick but the pilot hurt himself in confusion," they say, and promptly take their shirt off, folding the worn garment into a padded little square for Dirk to rest his head on. Not a  _ great _ pillow, but it's better than the bare roof.

"Alright, I'm gonna lay you down." Their hand on his chest moves to brace lower down his back. "Just tip over, I've got you. On three, yeah?"

  
  


It's a little hard to focus, but I get the gist of it.

"Sweet reference." I murmur under my breath, but nod. Doll counts down and then I'm shifting to lie down against the roof and they're setting my head onto something soft. I look up and

Oh. Well. Alright. Now my brain is apparently short circuting for another reason because Doll just has their entire chest out, completely unphased at sitting in just their panties next to their brother from another universe.

The heat soaking into my back is at least familiar. So many days spent lying looking up into the empty sky and my bones are already relaxing at the muscle memory of this entire thing.

Wow they're perky. I have no frame of reference as to if this is normal or not, but whatever. I'll roll with it. A guy who's got a pair of gourgeous tits in his face would be a damn fool to complain about it.

Doll really does have great tits though, I'm not exaggerating in any kind of narrative sense. It looks like I could reach up and cup them and sink my fingers right into them and they'd be soft as hell and plump and overflow in all the best kind of ways. Doll can oppai with the best of them.

Their nipples are so cute, too. Hard and pink and they look like I could suck one into my mouth and roll it on my tongue. I wonder if they're sensitive. What kind of noises would Doll make if I pinched them? I almost want to find out.

Focus, Dirk. Stop thinking about your alternate universe sibling's tits and focus on the actual issue here.

"I don't know if my powers are kicking my ass because I'm in a new universe and they're having issues adjusting or if it's because I got hurled through the wall between universes." I say, and reach out.

The narrative expands under my command. I can reach out and find the stories of other potential players, see how the narrative of this universe-

...

There... there is no narrative.

There's the bubble of me, Doll, and the souls of other potential players out there. But there's no...  _ narrative _ . There's no driving force to bring them together, unite them, and weave them together into a story.

It's disorentating. I hate to say it, but I yank it all back in, collapse it down into this small space here, until it's just me and Doll and Doll's gourgeous titties.

Alright. That's enough thinking about their tits.

  
  


"One, twooooo, three!" they count, carefully maneuvering Dirk to lie flat on his back on the roof, gently setting his head down last once they've made sure their shirt is there to cushion him. Their hand finds his chest again. "Good?" they ask. It's not the first time they've done this, but there's always the risk that some new problem might arise in the shift.

Ah. Dirk is not paying attention to them. Well, he sort of is, but the part of them that is making the words happen is clearly not included in his current focus. Wherever he's from, it seems like he's not used to Doll being naked around him. That's a shame. They shift to sit on their hip, their knees tucked under his shoulder; they manually wrap his arm around their waist. Settled, they lean their hand on his opposite side and allow their tits to hang in easy view.

They enjoy the admiration in silence for a while, until Dirk pipes up again, like he's just gonna not acknowledge that he was staring, but before Doll can call him out on it, it seems he's run into something that disturbs him - he recoils. It's small, but it's detectable. Doll sighs.

"Aight, if you aren't gonna give your 'powers' - which you still haven't explained, by the way - a rest on your own, then I guess it's up to me, huh?" They lean over him, hands on either side of his head, and roll their eyes with a fond smile. "'Sides, you were staring for  _ a while _ . You know that, right?" They lower themself down to their elbows, resting their tits squarely on his face; they squish them in from the sides with their hands, enveloping their brother in sweet titty softness. "You're allowed to touch them, dork."

  
  


_ Soft _ .

Dirk shatters apart for exactly four seconds as Doll presses their tits to his face. I recover and narrative control slips back into my hands.

Wow. This is new. Doll's tits are settled on my face and they're so soft and warm and pretty much exactly like like I expected only better.

"This is new." I say, for a lack of anything else to say. Not going to lie- I really want to just sit up and grab them and see how they squirm and moan.

"I really should have just bit the bullet and walked up here." I muse. "I can't fully appreciate your glorious bosom from this angle and I'm not sure I would be able to move to be able to do so."

I would be more than happy to explain exactly the breadth and scope of my powers to Doll, but I have a lot more of a pressing situation right in front of me. Namely, their tits, pressing down on my face.

"Swing around, little sibling, I'd be  _ more _ than happy to give those gorgeous mounds some attention."

  
  


It's as if they can  _ feel _ Dirk blue screen. It makes Doll giggle, enjoying the novelty of a Dirk so unused to their tits in his presence - not that their Dirk is indifferent, of course.

His voice comes muffled from beneath their tits, his voice creating little buzzy sensations along their skin that make them shiver. They lift up while Dirk laments overexerting himself to let him breathe, still smiling, fond and amused.

"'Glorious bosom'?" they can't help but tease his word choice. It's a sweet compliment, and the wording is so dorky. They fucking adore him. They have to bite their lip to hold back another laugh at 'gorgeous mounds,' their grin still threatening to release their lip and their eyes squinting with the strength of it.

'Swing around' is pretty unclear, so they shift, one leg swinging over to straddle his chest, and they hold themself over him on their hands and knees. "How do you want me?"

  
  


Oh hell fucking yes. Now Doll's breasts are hanging directly in front of me.

"This is perfect." I say, putting my hands on their hips to guide them down a little so that they're straddling my waist. With their tits on perfect display, I bring my hands up (which, funny, suddenly they're full of strength in the face of my sibling's bountiful chest) and cup their breasts.

They're soft and squishy and I have absolutely no idea what I'm doing here but it feels good just to hold them. I gently sink my fingers into them and massage slightly, pressing the soft mounds up and gently groping and rubbing over the smooth skin.

How many times can I use soft before it becomes redundant? Doll's breasts are like pillows, just enough firmness to hold shape but so incredibly soft under my hands.

"Tell me what feels good, Doll." I say, thumbing over their nipples, feeling how stiff they are under the pads of my thumb. I start rubbing my thumbs back and forth over the little buds, feeling it try to go with the motion then bounce right back up to pointing forwards, again and again as I rub over them. There's a heavy heat pooling in my gut, a hunger that I don't feel often.

  
  


Dirk guides Doll to shift back a little, and they oblige; their knees are on either side of his waist where they stop, and if they were to sit back, they're pretty sure their ass would land right on his hips. They like that. They'll remember that for later - right now is more about indulging Dirk and keeping him from hurting himself more than anything else.

They make a pleased little trill as he starts to gently squeeze and knead their tits. He seems unsure of what to do with them, but Doll is content to let him play. The slow massaging feels nice, anyway, relieving a bit of the dull background ache deep in the root of their chest from carrying the weight of their tits.

He asks Doll to tell him what feels good at the same time that he starts focusing on their nipples, sweeping his touch back and forth rhythmically over the sensitive flesh. "Haa -" they can't help the high, breathy sound that escapes them instead of words. "This - this is good," they whine, only marginally pulling themself together - they can feel themself starting to get wet just from this. "My nipples are.  _ Really _ sensitive. But you can do - whatever you want with them. I like it when it's a little too much."

  
  


Doll makes a pretty noise as I massage their breasts, but the noise that falls from their mouth as I tease their nipples- that's such a pretty whine that I want to hear it again and again.

"Good to know." I murmur, rubbing my thumbs in firm circles over their nipples. The pink buds are so pretty, hard and aroused under my touch. This has long since gone past the ruse of a joke- the only thing left in my attention is making Doll feel good, making them moan and squirm under my touches.

I shift my grip to pinch their nipples and roll them, nice and slow. Using a little more force with each roll, watching Doll's face, their expression. I wonder how loud they'll get. I wonder how their Dirk touches them. I wonder if Bro touches them.

Seeing their pretty mouth, their pink cheeks, the way they unashamedly moan and squirm and got their tits out for their alternate universe older brother, I'm willing to bet that this is just another thing they do.

I'm jealous. I pinch their tits harder, rubbing their nipples between my fingers. I want to make them feel  _ good _ in a way I've never wanted to for anyone else before. I want to worship this beautiful deity straddling my waist, want to be their devoted priest until I chase out all the others and keep Doll for myself.

I want to wrap my narration around them and sink into their soul to make them feel the utmost pleasure imaginable. I want to sink them onto my cock and keep them there, grinding in deep and hard until they fall apart and cum on my cock. I want to wrap them in my arms and hold them until I'm the only Dirk they know.

"You love having your tits played with." I muse, flipping my grip around to capture their nipples between my index and middle fingers, pulling slow and firm, raising their breasts up until the stretch is too much and their nipples slip free, bouncing back into their normal shape. "I wonder if I could make you cum like this." I do it again, pulling, firm and slow, using more pressure this time to keep their pretty little mounds stretched out and pulled for longer.

  
  


It finally feels like Dirk's mind isn't wandering to other things, trying to do too much too quickly. No, his focus is pinpoint, on Doll, their tits, their nipples; satisfied, Doll lets their watch down, eyelids fluttering shut as their brother continues to tease them.

Their voice pitches high, jaw dropped open and eyebrows drawn tight, when he switches to pinching, firmly rolling their nipples between his fingers. It's intense in the best way; each sensation feels like it tugs right behind their clit, makes their pussy clench around nothing and soak through their panties. They don't hold anything back - moans drip out of their open mouth, jumping louder as his touches turn more intense.

" _ Fuck _ ," they gasp, more breath than anything else. Their thighs shake with the effort it takes to stay where they are, desperate to squeeze together or to sit back and grind on his dick, whichever will relieve the pressure and heat building low in their hips the fastest. One unsteady hand shifts from the roof to press into Dirk's chest, seeking contact, his solid heat - their touch slides over his muscles, curls around his ribs, scratches down his stomach where it comes to rest, palm pressed flat to his abdomen.

"May-maybe," they admit - though Dirk's query was clearly thinking aloud more than a real question - voice fluctuating along with his tugging on their nipples. "I've never done it before, but." But they feel like they can right now, dripping and shaking and throbbing between their legs just from being curiously played with like a toy.

  
  


Doll squirms under my touch, moaning- it's the sweetest sound I've ever heard. High and breathy and unrestrained, a testiment to the feelings quaking through them. They gasp and tremble, hips jolting slightly, but they stay in place, they don't move, just letting me play and tease and work their tits over.

Well, they move. But it's only to run a hand over my chest, coming down to rest on my abdomen. But other than that, their thighs tense and quiver but they  _ stay _ , like a good girl should.

_ Maybe? _ That's good enough for me.

I'm going to make that a  _ yes _ .

"But?" I chuckle and pinch their nipples again, tugging lightly, rolling them between my thumb and index fingers. "That sounds an awful lot like ' _ But, Dirk, I want you to make me cum from playing with my pretty tits _ '."

I let go and then grab them again, tugging roughly, wanting to hear Doll  _ cry _ out, wanting to seem them arch and shake and tremble.

Dare I? I could wrap the narrative around them and make them cum by writing pleasure into every touch.

No, that feels too much like cheating. I want Doll to come from just my touches. Next time.

...

Next time? There won't-

Whatever, that doesn't matter. I banish the thought, tugging on their pretty buds, their gorgeous nipples, relaxing to let them breath then tugging again, making them strain, over and over, working Doll up into a rhythm of pull and relax.

  
  


" _ Please _ ." Their response is immediate, unrestrained by either shame or pride. Nothing but pure desperation drips from Doll's shaking voice. "Please, Dirk, I want it. Want you to make me cum, I wanna cum for you, just like this."

He tugs hard on their nipples, harder than before - it punches their voice from their chest, crying high and sobbing its way out. Their thighs clench, knees scraping themselves on the roof as they squeeze tightly into Dirk's waist, the only thing keeping them from snapping shut completely. "Shit! Shit, god, fuck," Doll pants, fist balled tightly in the front of Dirk's shirt as they try to keep control, try to keep themself from giving in to the urge to just put a little pressure where they need it most, to work themself over that edge before Dirk brings them there himself.

But, fuck, the buildup is driving them insane, so fucking wet and turned on that all they can feel is Dirk's fingers on their nipples and their pulse deep in their pussy, the maddening tug of arousal inside them every time their brother tugs on their tits. It's too much and just barely not enough at the same time, Doll's knees bouncing against the surface of the roof in a small, frustrated dance as they whine high and pitiful.

"Dirk, please, I ju- _ hust _ \- just need a little more, please, I'm so fucking  _ close _ -"

  
  


They're desperate, quivering and sobbing under my touches,  _ begging _ for more, for me to bring them over that edge.

It's  _ delicious _ . I want to make that happen, want to get my little sibling to cum just from playing with their pretty, perfect tits, want to see them arch and moan and shake because  _ I got them there. _

Hunger is burning in my belly, posessive and greedy. I feed it as I pinch and tug and tug and then  _ twist _ , working their nipples over in my fingers, like their body is nothing but a finely-tuned instrument that I'm learning to play for my own amusement, watching every jerk and gasp and whine and tremble with each motion.

"You can do it, Doll, I know you can." I purr, and  _ pull _ , rough and hard, forcing them to arch down, until our faces are barely a foot apart. "You want to cum from your brother touching your tits, don't you? My slutty little sibling is so wet and ready to be  _ fucked _ but you're not even going to be fucked before you cum."

I give another harsh twist of their nipples, pulling just that bit harder.

"Cum and then maybe I'll put my dick in that sopping wet pussy of yours and let you cum on  _ that _ , too."

"So  _ cum _ , Doll." I growl, and  _ yank _ on their poor, abused nipples, rolling them roughly between my fingers.

  
  


There's something heady about falling apart for someone who barely seems affected; Doll, panting and squirming and dripping with lewd sounds in the humid evening air, all while Dirk calmly, carefully ministrates their deconstruction. The rough twist of their nipples has them crying out, hips jerking and stuttering as their muscles quiver in overwhelmed confusion.

Dirk yanks them down, close to his face as he taunts them; they can't help the sharp sound that it jolts from their throat, helpless to follow wherever he wants to lead them. Their shoulder collapses before long, taking them down to their elbow and drawing their face even closer to their brother's. They can feel their heavy breaths, trapped between them.

"Yes, yes, please," Doll gasps, barely registering anything beyond the low purr of Dirk's voice, the sharp-pain pleasure in their nipples from the twisting.

A little delayed, Doll processes that he's taunting them with the promise of his dick, of fucking them right there on the roof - their begging intensifies all at once. "Please, please,  _ please _ Dirk, fuck, please, I want your cock, I wanna feel you inside, wanna make you feel so good -  _ fuck _ -"

They're interrupted from their babbling by Dirk's command for them to cum, punctuated by the roughest treatment of their sensitive buds yet - they cut through their own words with a high keen, knees digging into Dirk's sides as they shake, as their hips jerk forward in the as if they could find any friction. Their pussy clenches tight, gushing with slick as their muscles all flex at once - their abs and toes curl so hard that their shins come off the ground, that the tugging on their tits only becomes more intense as they shudder through their orgasm. Their voice tears out of them, a wail that they try their best to bury in Dirk's chest.

  
  


Doll begs for my dick and then  _ cums _ , wailing into my chest and gasping and moaning and it is a  _ beautiful _ sight, it's so goddamn beautiful that I could probably go on for fucking pages about the cadence of their hips and the desperate edge to their voice and the expression on their face and how they squirm and pant and tremble-

But I won't, because I have  _ much _ more pressing concerns at the moment. Doll came from me playing with their pretty tits- and  _ begged _ for my dick, which is currently achingly hard and ready to fuck right into their sweet pussy.

I massage their tits gently- it seems rude to abuse them so hard and then leave them hanging all alone without even a caress or  _ how you do. _

"Good job, lil' sib." I say, as they tremble and pant. I let go of one one their tits and run my hand down, over their stomach, and slide my hand into their soaked panties, rubbing my middle and ring fingers over their folds. "So fucking wet down here- you really don't have any shame, huh? Cumming while your brother abuses your breasts."

I tease their clit with my thumb for a moment, lightly brushing back and forth over it as I chuckle.

"You want my dick?" I say, "I'll give it to you- but I want to hear you  _ beg _ for it, show me how desperate you  _ really _ are." I press my thumb right up against their clit and let them rock against it.

  
  


Their head swims in the aftermath of their orgasm, muscles quaking and breath heavy; their inner thighs are dripping juices but the rest of their skin is dappled in sweat, their hair sticking to their face with it. Doll knows they're a mess.

Not only that, but the pain comes rushing in once the pressure is taken off their nipples completely, knocking their breath from their chest and damn near crossing their eyes with the momentary intensity - it leaves as quickly as it comes, leaving them with nothing but the feeling of Dirk's strong fingers kneading into their flesh.

They aren't confident in their command of the English language at the moment, and they can only make a soft sound in their throat in response to their brother's praise. His fingers trail down their stomach, leaving their muscles jumping in his wake, and delve into their panties. They've barely recovered from cumming to begin with, and he didn't even  _ touch _ them to make it happen, for fuck's sake, and now his fingers are pressing up against them while they're already over-sensitive, cunt throbbing with their heartbeat. Doll's eyes slide out of focus, eyelids fluttering as they let out a pitiful, shaky whimper, hips stuttering and conflicted between pressing into the overstimulation or shying away.

" _ Dirk, _ " they whine, a little frustration tinting the desperation in their voice - they can barely think, stupid in the wake of their orgasm, and his thumb teasing their clit is only making it harder for them to string words together in a way that makes even a vague amount of sense. Their hips fuck forward as his thumb stills, independent of their control. "Fuck, Dirk, I need - I  _ need. _ I need it, I - please - I need your cock -  _ haah _ \- need you to fuck me, fill me up, something,  _ anything, _ please."

  
  


Doll is a mess- but they're a sobbing, desperate,  _ needy _ mess. Their hips stutter into my hand, chasing pleasure, and the way they call my  _ name _ -

Delicious. They have so much  _ need _ in their voice, begging for my dick- so of course, as a good alternate-universe-older-brother should, I give it to them.

I pull my hand back and work my dick free in a couple of quick motions. "Better hold on, Doll," I say- and tug their panties aside to pull them down onto my dick.

Fu _ uuu _ ck- Doll's pussy feels  _ so fucking good. _ Wet and tight and warm around me, I sink right in to the hilt, Doll's pretty thighs spread open, straddling my hips. I pull at their hips, grinding them forwards and backwards on my dick, letting absolute filth fall from my mouth.

"This is what you wanted, isn't it? You wanted your big brother's cock- filling you up, sinking into your wet little cunt, you really are just a slutty little sibling, you're so fucking wet, cumming from getting your pretty tits abused, you're going to bounce on my dick now because you're so desperate to get  _ fucked _ ."

  
  


He doesn't hesitate, thank fucking god - Doll's ready to burst into tears with the intensity of their want, their  _ need _ to be filled up, to feel Dirk hot and pulsing inside them. They tip their head down to watch him pull his cock out - so pretty, just like their brother's. Their mind bursts with a thousand things they wanna do to that cock, sit and worship it for hours.

He barely even gives warning before he's pushing their panties aside and tugging them down onto it - they gasp and moan, barely given time to adjust to the delicious feeling of being  _ full _ before Dirk is forcing their hips in a rough grind.

"Fuuuuuck," they whine, face tucked into Dirk's chest, fists balled in his shirt as they rock their hips into his movements, knees sliding apart along the roof to press their cunt even tighter against the root of his cock. Their own slick eases the drag of their clit against his skin; garbled little whimpers of what might be words, but probably not, slip out between their panting breaths as Dirk keeps up the unrelenting grind.

It's good, but it's not enough, not what they need - and they know Dirk knows that he's teasing as he spills nasty word after nasty word, hitting that sweet spot of degradation that puts them right in that dumb baby space in their head while he works them up. They push themself up to sitting, hands braced on his lower stomach while they adjust their legs to ride their brother properly.

"You feel so fucking good." They breathe it out like a drunken confession - and they might as well be drunk, riding the high of cumming, both empty-headed and heavy-limbed. Slowly, they lift their hips a touch just to press back down, testing Dirk's hold on them, how much he wants to control their every move. "Exactly what I wanted,  _ fuck _ , so full. Could grind on your cock  _ forever _ just like this." They keep up the slow little hitches of their hips, abandoning anything resembling a real sentence to just say whatever they feel instead.

"Wanna make you cum so hard you see fuckin'  _ stars _ , lemme - lemme do it, I can make you feel so fuckin good, big bro. Promise."

  
  


Doll rocks into my movements, spreading their thighs  _ wider _ , trying to get filled up just that bit more, get my cock as deep as it'll go into them. My little sibling really knows their way around a dick and something in my chest goes still at that, goes hungry and tight.

"My" little sibling? Alright there, Dirk, calm down with the possessiveness. They're an alternate universe sibling. They're not "mine".

Whatever. Semantics can be thought about later. Right now I've got a pretty little slut on my dick whining for more, sitting up to ride me properly. Doll is a fucking  _ vision _ , expression somewhere between horny and vacant- and I'm willing to bet they don't have a whole lot going on in there right now asides from the desperate desire to get  _ fucked _ .

They raise up a tiny bit and drop back down- my fingers tighten reflexively at the movement, pulling them into a more forceful grind back and forth- I can feel the heat of their body around me as they beg to be allowed to ride me, but I'm content like this for a moment- just to tease Doll that little bit more and shift my dick inside their warm pussy.

_ Big bro. _

Now that hits somewhere deep, making my dick throb. I never saw myself as a sibcon, but you find out something new every day.

"You think you can do it?" I muse, still forcing them to grind forwards, then back. "I bet I can make you cum again first." I smirk up at Doll.

"After all, you already came once. Whats another, or two, or three more to a little slut like you?" I purr. "You're so tight and wet on my dick- you just love taking your big brother's cock, isn't that true? You'd do nothing else if I gave you the chance."

The expression on their face is driving me  _ crazy _ . I want to drink it in, get as much of the open-mouthed, empty-headed, pleasured expression as I can. I want to keep Doll on my dick for as long as I can, until it's too much and we  _ have _ to stop.

I let go of their hips with one hand, the other hand still forcing Doll into the slow, firm grind. I take two fingers and shove them right up against their clit, giving them something more substantial to grind against.

"Cum, Doll." I breathe. "I want to feel you cum for your big brother like the empty-headed slut you are. Cum and then I'll let you ride me like you want to, let you ride me hard and wet and fast until you cum  _ again _ ."

  
  


Dirk immediately makes it clear that Doll will not be riding him the way they want to until  _ he _ wants them to - they let out a little frustrated whine as his grip firms to keep them flush against him, keep in control of the rhythm of the grind, but they can't help the way their pussy squeezes tight around him at the idea of just letting him have it. Letting him have all the control, let his strong hands dictate their rhythm, their position and their place, let his filthy mouth lay down their law.

He isn't gonna let them take care of him, not yet - and that's fine. As much as Doll wants to make him cum, feel him flood their insides with heat, they aren't going to turn down a few extra orgasms for themself. They shift to tilt their hips back, rolling into the grind so that his cock puts more pressure on their g-spot with every sweep. Their head tips back, eyes rolled up and unfocused as a syrupy moan drips from their open mouth.

They tip their head forward again to watch their brother's face while he talks - he's got a cocky, sideways pull to his mouth that they only see Dirk get when he's confident, an expression that makes their heart twist in their chest while his words pool heat low in their belly.

"Please, Dirk,  _ please _ ," they whine, muscles clenching involuntarily around his cock again in response to hearing how tight they feel. They nod their feverish agreement that they love taking his cock, love having their brother inside them, that they'd do nothing else but warm his cock if they thought they could get away with it. They open their mouth to say more, but no words come to them, instead letting out another long, pitiful high-pitched sound, desperate for more than he's giving to them.

Thankfully, blessedly, as if he just knows already what they need but are too cum-drunk to ask for, Dirk presses his fingers up against their clit - it's just the right amount of friction as their hips roll forward, the pads of his fingers pressing in and surrounding the little nub perfectly as he calls for them to cum again. Their eyes slip shut, focusing on his voice and the promises inside, focus on hitting just the right rhythm, on building their orgasm between the hot pressure between their hips from their g-spot and the zippy, electric pleasure jolting through them from their clit; it takes little time before it breaks, their unfiltered, breathy sounds crying high as their muscles tense and shake through another orgasm, as their hips grind down roughly to chase it all the way through, as their pussy clenches as if trying to milk the cock buried inside for all it's worth.

  
  


Doll is so  _ pretty _ and desperate and it's stoking a  _ hungry _ fire in my belly. Their expression is so vacant and needy and it's making me want to be  _ mean _ to them.

I shouldn't, though. If I were mean I would take the narrative and pour it into their head and make them cum over and over and with the strange sense I got earlier from them it would likely leave them  _ shattered _ .

I keep the narrative control of me to myself, and lay down a careful, firm line between myself and Doll. I won't be responsible for breaking my sibling's brain.

Shorting it out with orgasms, though- now that sounds perfect.

Doll grinds to my rhythm, like a good slut should, and the shifting of their expression as they work up to another orgasm from just grinding on their brother's dick, getting their pretty little clit rubbed- I drink in every second of it.

I want this burned into my brain. I want to remember every moment of it even after I shove my way back to the canon timeline, the canon universe. I want to make this last as long as possible.

Which is why, as Doll shakes and clenches down around my dick on another orgasm, I reach up and take their face in my hand, pulling them down so that, as they sit on my dick, their face is barely inches from mine.

"How many times have you cum before in one go, Doll?" I murmur. "Tell me. I want to  _ shatter _ that record."

I roll my hips up into them. Firm.  _ Deep _ .

  
  


They're still shaking when Dirk pulls them down, close to his face; not close enough for a kiss, but so close that Doll can't do anything but stare, pressed up against his body as their hips roll back to try and swallow the length of their brother's cock that's slipped out now that he's pulled their head to his level.

Belatedly, they realize Dirk is asking them a question that is not rhetorical and requires an answer - their eyes dart over his face, searching for answers and words alike and finding nothing. "Hhhuuuhhghh," they say, intelligently, as their brother fucks his cock back into them, as deep as he can; their eyes cross, head dropping forward with the sudden sensation, drool dripping from their lower lip as their mouth hangs open.

"I don't - I don't know," they finally work out real words in a real language, trembling from the combination of aftershocks and overstimulation, their pulse throbbing thick and fast where they're stretched open around Dirk's cock - it's all too much and it's  _ fucking _ delicious, a sensitivity they could live in forever. "As - as many as you want. I can do it."

  
  


_ As many as you want _ .

Those are  _ dangerous _ words, Doll. Giving me that pretty, empty-headed expression while telling me that you can cum as many times as I want?

That's like handing a steak to a lion and telling him not to eat it.

And I am  _ hungry _ .

I grin up at them and let go of their head, wrapping my arms around them instead. I hold them tight to me as I sit up, keeping them on my dick, and then reach for my cape.

"Here, Doll." I purr, tugging it off and draping it around their shoulders to give them some protection. The surfaces up here might be cooling off as the sun's setting, but I don't want my delicate little sibling's skin to be hurt.

I turn and press them against the ventilation unit, going up on my knees- Doll's trapped so perfectly between the metal of the large, square unit and myself- their own body weight is sinking them down onto my cock. With their legs folded and squeezing on either side of my hips, their toes are barely able to touch the ground.

My hands on their hips squeeze, keeping them in place as I grind into them. "You said  _ as many as I want _ , right?" I purr. "I hope you don't have anywhere to be, Doll." A thought strikes me, and I laugh. "What a perfect name for you." I muse. "You're just a pretty little doll- made to be  _ fucked _ ."

I slam my hips forwards, thrusting my cock into them and sliding their shoulders up a couple of inches on the unit. "Isn't that right?" I growl, starting a hard, deep pace. "You're a doll for your brother to use however he wants. A pretty little pussy to be filled with cum."

  
  


Dirk grins like a wolf, a  _ predator _ once Doll promises to cum for him as much as he wants them to - it's a look that makes Doll's pussy throb and gush, their wetness sliding down Dirk's shaft in anticipation of being  _ ruined. _ He sits up with them, holding them close and tight; Doll gasps at how the shift of their weight changes the way his cock sits inside them, and they grasp at his shoulders for stability.

The cape is a sweet gesture, and they smile a little in hazy fondness as he swings it around to drape over their shoulders. It doesn't stay on their face long - their brother pushes them up against the metal box beside them, their weight pushing his cock to new depths as they scramble to secure their legs around his hips. The residual heat from the metal slowly bleeds through the fabric of his cape, but it's not uncomfortable.

"Oh god, Dirk," they gasp, pinned and helpless as he grinds his dick as deep as it will go, their cunt pressed solidly up against his body as he drags along their insides, making their eyes flutter and roll back, makes their fingers dig hard into the muscles in his shoulders.

"As many as you want," they repeat, voice heavy with their breath. The low rumble Dirk's voice has taken on is spiking new heat into their middle, filling them up so that all their thoughts are centered on the cock spearing them open, on the bruises forming under their brother's grip as he holds them steady.

If they had less heat hazing their thoughts, they might be able to say something in response to Dirk seeming to realize the meaning of their name, the reason their daddy named them what they did. But as it is, all they can do is whine, high and desperate, and nod.

Their voice punches out of their gut in a sharp, deep, startled sound as Dirk fucks  _ hard _ into them, jostling them up along the side of the ventilation box. He doesn't let up, immediately leaning into a brutal pace that has them shifting along the metal behind them with every harsh thrust of his cock, every smack of his hips against their ass. Each thrust feels like it fucks their breath out of their chest, desperately panting sweet moans as they try to catch it again.

"Yes, yes -  _ haaah _ \- yes, please, fuck," Doll babbles, cycling through the three words they for sure haven't forgotten, head tipped back and mouth dropped open as their brother finally fucks into them the way they want, the way they  _ need _ him to. "I'm - fuck - please, use me, I'm your toy, Dirk, just a toy, oh god, please don't stop -"

  
  


Dolls panting and moaning so desperate, so  _ sweet _ and it just spurs me on harder, stokes my possessive fire higher. They babble and beg and call my name as I sink my cock into their sweet, soakingly wet pussy over and over.

I laugh, maybe a touch meanly, and shift closer, hiking Doll a little higher up on the vent so that I can lean in, their breasts squishing against my chest.

"You're my  _ toy _ , Doll?" I growl, and lean in to press my mouth to their jaw as I relentlessly fuck into them. "Those are  _ big words _ , little sibling."

I slam in deep and stay there as I reach down for Doll's legs, lifting Doll up enough to get their legs to unfold and curl around my waist instead.

I slide my mouth up to their ear and purr, "because I've always loved  _ taking my toys apart _ to see how they tick-"

A hard roll of my hips has my dick grinding hard into them, shoving them an inch or two up the metal as I seize their earlobe in my mouth, biting at it for a moment before letting it go and saying, "-and then putting them back  _ together _ again."

I've stopped caring about most other things- the only thing I can focus on, in this moment, is my sibling in my arms, the slippery tightness of their cunt around me- and the overwhelming desire to  _ break them apart _ .

With their legs around my waist, I don't need to hold them up by the hips, I can support their weight on my legs and hips as long as their shoulders are pressed to the ventilation box.

So I leg go of their hips and start fucking up into them, forcing a full-body rock through Doll with each thrust. I grab the edge of the box- yeah, that's hot but whatever, my sibling needs to get  _ fucked _ \- for leverage as my other hand presses between us, seeking out Doll's clit.

"So cum like the empty-headed, slutty toy you are, Doll, cum for your big brother," I growl as my thumb finds it and shoves up against it, "your wet, needy cunt sucking on my dick and those pretty tits of your bouncing, I want to see you cum over and over as you fall apart, as  _ I break you apart _ ."

  
  


Doll's just getting lost in the rhythmic bounce of their body along with Dirk's thrusts, the deep, pulsating pleasure that shocks through them every time his cock sinks home, when he shifts forward, pressing his body up against theirs and changing the angle of his thrusts. Doll whines, their nipples dragging against the soft fabric of his shirt as he hitches them higher.

The rumble of his voice, pressed right against their jaw, his lips dragging against their skin, the taunting of his words - it all sends a shiver through Doll, their voice giving little whimpers with each rough thrust until he slams in to stay, forcing a cry out of them as his mouth travels up their neck to their ear. He grabs their legs, rearranging their grip on him, and they squeeze their thighs around his waist, ankles hooking together behind his back at his physical instruction.

"Huuh -!" they can't help the deep, unpretty sound that jumps out of them as their brother fucks into them deep enough to force them to slide up the ventilation unit, punching into their insides and punctuated by his teeth sharp on their ear. Their eyes slip shut, a desperate whine trembling out of their mouth as their legs and hands flex to pull Dirk closer while he threatens to dismantle them and put them back together the way he wants. God, that's so fucking hot. Doll is at home with being used, but they can't help craving more, craving the feeling of completely losing control and shattering apart.

"Ple- _ hease, _ Dirk, oh  _ fuck, _ " they sob out as he starts fucking into them with renewed force again, nails digging into his shoulders and heels digging into his lower back, clinging onto him for stability while their body bounces on his cock. The wet smack of his hips against their cunt, the way their tits bounce and then tug at the root along with his rhythm - they could cum just from this, dizzyingly hot and satisfying, the build of pressure low in the cradle of their hips around the cock pumping into them more than enough to get them to another orgasm. Even so, their brother finds their clit again, his thumb pressing hard into them, springing tears to their eyes with the intense, just-this-side-of-painful pleasure.

They cry, high and wordless, abs and knees curling as they cum again. Their hips twist on Dirk's cock as they squeeze hard and gush around him and try to pull away from all the sensation, all too much too much  _ too much. _ "Dirk, Dirk, Jesus, fuck, oh my god -  _ ghuuuh _ \- I can't, ho- shit, you fuck me so fuckin' good." Their words are mindless, panting and stupid, voice broken and fucked out even as their brother's thrusts keep hitching them up against the box behind them.

  
  


Doll cums, because of course they do. They're being railed deep and hard while getting their pretty clit rubbed and worked over, clinging to their big brother as he growls filth in their ear.

It's their third one and it looks like the intensity of it has no signs of dropping. The cry that comes from their mouth, the twisting of their hips, the way they clamp down on his cock- it's only stoking my heat hotter and hotter.

I grab their hips and force them down to grind on my cock as they squirm and mewl, expression desperate and fucked out. "You know I do, Doll." I murmur, bringing our faces together so that our noses are bumping together as I talk. "You love your big brother's cock so much. You love sitting on it, getting fucked by it- you love the way it fills you up and hits all the best spots, don't you?"

The dirtytalk is half mindless words, half hunger to hear Doll confirm what I know.

I fuck into them- I'm not even feeling my own pleasure at this point, I don't want to make myself cum before I'm good and ready. I can feel the in-out glide of Doll's wet, tight pussy and I can feel the way they clench down- but I'm erasing the pleasure of it from my sensations. It's simple enough- and it's a good sign that my powers are recovering from my ill-thought-out teleportation from earlier.

"I can do this all day, Doll." I purr. "Pick a number, any number, sweetheart- and that's how many times I'll make you cum before I'll let you stop."

That's a lie, of course- whatever number they pick I'll push them for one more, world-shattering orgasm.

"Come on, Doll." I croon, slowing my thrusts to be gentler, to rock Doll soothingly instead of punishingly. "Tell your big brother what you want. It's okay, I've got you- I'll take good care of you."

  
  


Doll practically  _ squeals _ as Dirk forces them down to the hilt of his cock and holds them there, legs twitching in tandem with their cunt through overstimulation; they're still on the sharp edge of  _ too much, _ all sensations like teetering on the blade of a knife. But it's so  _ good. _ Their body rocks with the grind despite the fact that it's almost painful, panting and whining as Dirk leans in close to tease, to taunt, to brag - they nod, fast and jerky, frantic.

"Yes, fuck, Dirk, love your cock so fucking much, love how you fill me up so fucking perfect, god," they pant, their breath hot in the narrow space between their faces; when Dirk's nose bumps up against Doll's, their head tips up to brush against him more purposefully.

They're still sensitive by the time he starts fucking into them again, and they make a sharp sound of surprise as he does, voice evening out as he keeps up the rhythm. It feels both like they can't stand another moment of being fucked and like they never want to stop having his cock inside them - tears streak down their cheeks with the conflict, with their gasping moans as he fucks hard and deep and tells them he  _ could _ do this forever if he wanted to.

They can't think of a number. They're not totally sure they remember what numbers are. They think one of them might be seven, but that number is definitely more orgasms than they could handle. They'd probably die.

They don't want to give him a number, anyway. They want to focus on him, to put their mind somewhere other than oblivion for just a minute. Dirk's thrusts slow to a gentle, rolling pace that Doll happily meets with soft sounds, with their thighs' grip around his waist renewed as their hips roll to meet his. Doll's fingers slowly release their death grip on their brother's shoulders, traveling up the back of his neck to sink and fist into his hair instead.

"Wanna make you cum," they breathe, gently tugging on the soft, soft hair in their grasp.

"Please, Dirk, wanna make you feel good, wanna be good for you, wanna feel it inside,  _ please _ ."

  
  


Doll pants and babbles and rocks with me, mindlessly fucked out. There are tears running down their cheeks, but their expression reads clearly as pleasure- I'm giving them too much, making them overstimulated, overwhelming them.

Perhaps I should stop, let them down. I don't really want to. This is the best I've felt in a long time, with my alternate-universe sibling writhing and moaning on my cock, and I want to savor it for as long as possible.

Doll is begging, though, is asking for my cum, wants me to cum inside of them.

"Yeah?" I breathe. "You want my cum, Doll? You want to make your big brother feel good? So good that I cum in your pretty little cunt?"

I laugh softly. "Maybe I shouldn't even let you have it in your cunt. Maybe I should keep fucking you forever until you break, until you're just a stupid little mindless doll to be used. Making you cum over and over and over until you can't do anything else. Or I could cum on those pretty tits of yours- I bet that would look awfully nice, rub my dick between them and get them nice and sticky."

I grind nice and slow into them, working my free hand up between our chests, finding a nipple and twisting. "Your tits are  _ so _ perfectly sensitive." I purr. "You really are a little airheaded bimbo made to take cock. You're lucky I came along to give it to you, aren't you?"

  
  


"Yeah," Doll echoes Dirk, just as breathy. "Please, Dirk, I need it - I need to be good - just wanna - wanna do good, wanna  _ be _ good, cum wherever you want, I'll take it -  _ hhaaa _ -"

Their voice cuts out in a whine as their brother's dick grinds deep again, thighs and stomach shaking as he pinches and twists one of their already-abused nipples. Their fingers clench and tug in his hair as they writhe in overstimulation, high pitched whines and whimpers panting their way out of their chest.

"Fuck, yes." Their head tips back against the metal box behind them, eyes slipping shut and sending more tears spilling down their cheeks.

"Dirk,  _ please. _ " Just like a toy. They feel like a broken record, like a doll with a voice box that cycles through the same three phrases, over and over and over. "Please."

  
  


Doll is begging, begging so roughly, so desperate and crying and it's absolutely beautiful.

Maybe I should stop here. As big of a game as I talk about  _ breaking my toys _ , I don't genuinely want to break them.

There's an  _ affection _ , bubbling in my chest for this strange, new sibling of mine, and it makes me want to keep them.

Maybe I should. What is this universe, if it's not the Alpha? What is this universe if it has no narrative, if it's only narrative is  _ me? _ Does that not mean it's a universe with of no consequence? Does that not mean that any actions I take will have no real effect? The moment I leave it will cease to be. Right?

Perhaps not. Does it even  _ matter _ , though? The narrative is as I define it. Which means that when I go, this world will no longer matter.

_ Doll _ will no longer matter.

Hm.

That won't do. Doll is something new and interesting, previously unknown to me. Something  _ fun _ .

Something  _ precious _ .

"Doll." I purr, kissing Doll's ear as they sob. As they beg. "You want your big brother's cum? You can have it."

I give myself back my pleasure and  _ groan _ , low in my throat, grinding into Doll's tight, wet pussy. "You feel so good, Doll, so fucking good. Your pretty pussy so wet and tight- the best fucking toy I've ever had."

I let the heat build in my gut, let it radiate up my spine, collect in my core.

"You want to cum one last time for me? Want to cum together with me? I think you can do it, one more time for your big brother."

Doll's fingers in my hair feel good, pulling and tugging at my scalp and lighting it up with pleasure

"Come on, Doll, come on." I breathe, letting go of their tit as I grind, nice and slow and deep. Chasing my own, lazy pleasure. "I know you can do it. One more."

I press my thumb right back up against their clit, gently rocking and fucking them nice and slow, until I cum, until I press in deep and groan, heat spilling over, and I pump my cum into Doll's sweet pussy.

  
  


Doll whines high in relief as Dirk finally agrees to give them what they want, punctuated with a kiss to their ear that leaves their lit-up body shivering. "Yes, yes, thank you," they sob, head tipping forward to bump against his shoulder for just a moment.

The pace he chooses to get himself there is a slow, deep grind - it's unexpected but delicious, something Doll can eagerly meet rather than just hold on and  _ take _ . Their hips roll, heels pressing into Dirk's lower back to give themself a little leverage to work their pussy on his cock.

Even his sounds light them up, deep and unrestrained and masculine - it goes right to their core, right where he sits hot and thick inside them, every motion concentrating rolling heat in the cradle of their hips. They let out a high, wavering moan as he praises them, praises their pussy, tells them what a good toy they are for him; their cunt squeezes around him, a fluttering pulse they couldn't hope to control.

"Yeah, yes, please," they breathe. They're already well on their way to another orgasm, fucked full and sensitive and encouraged by the promise of getting to feel him cum, too. "I can do it, wanna cum with you,  _ please, _ bro."

His pace doesn't pick up, maintaining this slow and deep and intense grind instead; it works for them, that core of heat steadily blooming through their hips and up into their belly. Their breath comes out sharp as he releases their nipple, as he gently encourages them through their pleasure - his thumb finds their clit again and almost immediately their thighs are shaking, the ball of heat surrounding his cock fucking into them ready to burst.

Their hips stutter and kick as Dirk fucks in deep, whining high as he groans low; that ball of heat turns white hot and melts, feeling like it's gushing right out of them in a wave of hot slick. Their pussy squeezes in short, rapid bursts, nursing his cock as it pulses inside them with every pump of his cum.

"Oh fuck - oh  _ fuck, _ Dirk, fuck, thank you, so fucking good," they babble, overwhelmed by the delicious heat of his cum deep in their cunt, by the tingling warmth spreading through their body with the hot, hazy quality of their final orgasm. Their eyelids droop, fucked out and messy and  _ exhausted; _ their head tips back against the box behind them as they pant, little sounds and whimpers bubbling up their throat in the aftermath of pleasure.

  
  


I can only cling to Doll and breathe for a minute as my orgasm shudders through my veins. They always seem to leave me wrecked in the best of ways- and this one, now, with Doll is particularly intense. Perhaps it's from the novelty of being in a new universe, perhaps it's from it being my sibling sitting on my dick, perhaps it's the fact that I just gave them  _ five _ fucking orgasms and watched them fall apart into a stupid little slut on my dick.

That might be too mean, calling them that. They loved it, though.

I hesitate for barely a moment before leaning in to press my mouth to Doll's neck, dropping soft kisses there.

"You're so goddamn perfect." The words come out- I don't really think about them before I say them. I press another kiss and slowly roll my hips back, pulling out.

I pull back, my arms sliding around Doll's back to pull them with me. It's a moment or two of shuffling before it's my back against the warm vent and I bundle Doll up in my cape, cradling them in my lap.

Hm. That's interesting.

Sentiment. Something I thought I had, if not discarded, at least packed away to be kept out of sight. Sentiment is dangerous, with my goals.

And here I am, feeling sentimental, because there's a part of me that doesn't want to leave Doll behind.

"Doll." I murmur. One arm cradles around their shoulders, hugging them to me, and the other reaches up to tuck hair behind their ear. "Are you happy, here?"

  
  


Doll sags in Dirk's arms, held securely while they melt into bonelessness like a little ragdoll. Their breath is heavy, hard to catch, but with Dirk's breath puffing similarly heavily against their skin, they don't have the wherewithal to be self conscious. They make a happy little hum in their chest as he starts to press soft kisses to their neck.

_ Perfect. _ He calls them perfect. A happy thrum fills their body at the word, a classic sign from their own daddy that they did good for him - hearing it from Dirk feels just as sweet, just as fulfilling. They wrap their arms around the back of his neck, tucking their face to his throat and making another soft sound as his dick slides out of their body.

They have to let go as Dirk rearranges the both of them, but they won't complain to be wrapped up in his cape and in his arms. They tip their head against his firm chest, knees curled up as he holds them close; they let their eyes close, exhaustion starting to take over now that they're in a more comfortable spot.

"Mm?" they chirp, not unlike a cat who's just been woken up with a gentle touch, when Dirk says their name. He asks if they're happy. There's a lot of mental and emotional spiraling about the question that Doll could do if they weren't so pleasantly fucked into exhaustion, weren't still feeling the satisfying ache in their body from being fucked hard and well.

"Sure," they say, suppressing a yawn. "What do you mean, though, really?"

  
  


I turn the thought over in my head. There's not much to narrate about it, really, I just circle a little bit until I figure out what I want to say.

"I'll have to leave at some point." I say, eventually. "My world needs me to keep-" I break off, realizing I'm about to launch into a babble of meta narrative bullshit that Doll will have no frame of reference for and ultimately only confuse them.

"My world needs me to be a villain." I settle on. "Without me, everything will fall apart."

I tip my head back and rest it against the heated metal.

"....I wish that were an exaggeration or a statement of narcissism." I sigh. "My world will... probably tear itself apart at the narrative seams without me to keep at least one hand on that bucking bronco to keep it tame. So I can't stay here."

I look down to Doll. My sweet, adorable, perfect little sibling- who's not mine at all.

"But I don't know what will happen when I leave. I don't know if your world will continue on without me. I don't know if, now that I've introduced a narrative force, it will adapt and create a narrative to continue your world on. I don't know if it will pop like a soap bubble when I leave, my narrative force having created a vacuum that your world cannot fill on it's own, forcing it to collapse. I don't know if your world will simply neatly tidy up the remaining trappings of my narrative and dump it out the metaphorical window into the bin waiting below."

I pause. That was a lot and had a lot of 'narrative' in it. Shit. Did that make any sense?

"Did that make any sense?"

  
  


Doll rests their head comfortably in the join between Dirk's arm and shoulder while he speaks; their shades get squished against their nose in this position, so their hands snake up from within the cape burrito to push them up on top of their head instead. They can't help but make an expression of clear skepticism as Dirk tells them he's a villain, and that his being a villain is  _ necessary _ \- they highly doubt that, knowing what they know about this Dirk and and also their own.

"So," they start slowly, "you think that, simply by the act of having come here, you leaving might ruin my universe." They find this unlikely. Their universe existed long before Dirk arrived, and they doubt a small accidental villainous detour to fuck a teenaged younger sibling would be enough to do it in for good.

_ Ah. _ They get it.

"You're trying to find an excuse to take me with you." Doll looks up at their older brother with a wry, clever expression, the corner of their mouth curling up in a smile. "Right?"

  
  


Doll takes all my rambling and condenses it down into one neat little sentence. I'm worried that my simple presence here has doomed their universe. Introducing an invasive species where it does not belong- and paradox space is  _ vicious _ about cleanup.

I pause, though, as Doll hits the  _ other _ nail on the head.

".....yes." I say, after a moment of looking back down at Doll, looking at their pretty eyes. "There are- a number of reasons, truly, but the idea of leaving and your universe collapsing- "

My mouth twists into a flat, unhappy line.

"I've only just met you." I say. "I've never heard of a Doll Strider- in either Dave's universe or mine. You're something strange and new and to just meet you and then potentially cause your doom by  _ existing _ in your world-"

I shake my head.

"It doesn't sit right with me." I murmur. "To find a new sibling and lose them immediately- and spend the rest of my life-" my  _ very long _ life, mind you- "wondering if I killed you. If I destroyed your universe without anyway of ever knowing."

  
  


Doll's face twists in confusion - what does he mean he's never met them before? That they didn't exist to either him or the Dave he knew? They were a  _ family. _ How did Dirk know their name if he hadn't known them before?

Well. He can do a lot of weird dumb shit already on account of his superpowers, and he keeps mentioning a narrative, as if what's going on between them is merely the text of a book, so maybe that question isn't really so important.

They listen to him ramble, vent his misgivings about leaving them behind, and they gently pat his pec with their one hand peeking out of the cape burrito. They can comfort him and cop a feel at the same time, they've proven this already. "You're not very good at this villain stuff," they say, mildly.

"I mean, if you care, you care," they clarify, "that's not what I'm talking about, though. If you're the big bad guy like you say, what's stopping you? Am I supposed to tell you no and cry about how my daddy needs me, and then you leave with your conscience heavy anyway like some kinda lawful good idiot? We both know that's not gonna happen. You already made up your mind."

  
  


I chuckle a little, but it's wry. Maybe a bit sad. "I suppose you're right." I say quietly. "I guess it's simple as I don't need more known atrocities on my hands. If you agree, then my collapsing your universe is not quite as terrible- because the one, known factor I know of in it, which is you, is safe.  _ Willingly _ safe, not kidnapped-safe."

I adjust my hold on Doll so that I can gently smooth a few strands of their hair down.

"Let me show you something." I say. "Let me show you what makes me a villain."

Carefully, I wrap the narrative around Doll again.

Doll's latent heart powers try to make their complaints known- but I'm ready this time, I shush them like the palest human substitute known to trollkind until they're just unhappy, not threatening to revolt.

Doll wants to say yes. They know they do. They just got the best dicking down of their life from a handsome, cooler version of their older brother. They would be foolish  _ not _ to say yes, especially with the possibility of their universe collapsing at their feet. What's their family in the face of self preservation? Doll  _ wants _ to say yes.

I slip the narrative back. The thoughts I narrated for them drain from their mind, and I'm sure their latent heart powers means they recognized each and every one of those thoughts as something foreign and strange.

"You feel that?" I ask quietly. " _ That's _ why I'm a villain, Doll. Because I take people's choices. I narrate them into existence. That's why, whenever I can- whenever I'm  _ able _ to- I need to give people the chance to make them."

  
  


He wants Doll to choose, which they suppose makes sense, given his reasoning. Unspoken, though, is the fact that he wants them to choose  _ him. _ He frames it as safety, but they have to wonder how much of this is worry, and how much of this is loneliness. If he  _ is _ a villain by necessity like he says, to keep his world together, how much has he given up to do it?

His touch pulls them out of their thoughts, and they look up at him with round, waiting eyes as he pets their hair.

He wants to show them - what?

It's an immediately unpleasant feeling, like being swaddled so tightly that they can't move an inch. Something inside them rears up as if threatened, but quickly settles into a low rumble of discontent.

Doll wants to say yes. They know they do. They just got the best dicking down of their life from a handsome, cooler version of their older brother  _ (lol?) _ . They would be foolish  _ not _ to say yes, especially with the possibility of their universe collapsing at their feet. What's their family in the face of self-preservation?  _ (what??) _ Doll  _ wants _ to say yes.

The pinned-down feeling melts away, and the first thing Doll does is  _ laugh _ . Yeah, Dirk is being all serious and angsty and they're definitely ruining his little moment and the point he's making, but wow!

" _ Dirk, _ " they wheeze, tucking their face into his titty to calm themself down for a moment. More composed, they pull back, still grinning in pure amusement as they look up at him. "Dude. First of all, that was hilarious. Imagine,  _ me _ going 'eh,  _ fuck _ my family, actually!'" They squirm in his lap in an attempt to sit upright, but, bundled as they are, they only really succeed in wiggle-worming.

"Secondly, I highly doubt that simply having that ability makes you a villain." They stare up at him pointedly after this statement, one eyebrow raised. "You obviously don't  _ have _ to take anyone's choices. I know you said you needed to for the good of your universe or whatever, but don't pretend like there aren't other options."

"Finally," they sigh, "I will go with you, pretty much because I believe you're being overdramatic and my universe and dad and bro are gonna be fine."

  
  


Doll  _ laughs. _

My knee-jerk reaction is indigence. I attempted to impress the seriousness of my situation on them and they  _ laugh? _

It melts away quickly, though, because their laugh isn't mocking, it's just- high and sweet and they're saying my name and saying that just  _ having _ that ability doesn't make me a villain.

And... they're technically  _ not wrong. _ But somehow the thought hadn't ever occurred to me that I could have this ability and  _ not _ be a villain. That I could do anything  _ other _ than continue canon, that it would be anything other than my cross to bear.

Huh.

I'll turn that over later to think about, when I don't have my younger sibling in my lap.

Doll will come with me? That's... good. That's a relief, actually. It means I won't have to wonder forever if I killed them.

"Alright." I end up saying, maybe a touch lamely. "That's... yeah." Okay, that was  _ definitely _ lame. I adjust my grip on Doll because of their wiggling, shifting them in my lap so it's less bridal-hold and more them just sitting in my lap, wrapped in my cape, their head against my shoulder.

I press my mouth into their hair. "Thank you." I murmur.

  
  


Dirk helps them sit up properly, eventually, and it's clear Doll has a little bit taken the wind from his sails. Or maybe just given him a lot to think about. They scritch at his chest, cheek squishing comfortably against his shoulder.

"You always take too much responsibility," they murmur, speaking from what they know about their actual brother from experience but what they intrinsically  _ know _ still applies to this version of Dirk, "even for shit that has nothing to do with you. Not every burden is neatly wrapped up with a little bow and a tag that says 'Dirk' on it."

Dirk presses his mouth to their hair, almost a kiss but he just lingers there, his thanks pressed to their crown.

"Sure," they say, cheerful but subdued, casual. "Lemme just leave a note so Daddy doesn't lose his mind tearin' the city apart lookin' for me." Doll knows he'll still be unhappy, anxious, might even call up their grampa about it if he gets really desperate, but at least he'll have  _ something _ .

  
  


_ You always take too much responsibility. _

Okay, I know Doll is a heart player, but  _ ouch _ that hits a bit too close to home. I am going to take that and box it up and deal with that particular bruise  _ later _ .

"Yeah, well, it seems to be in my universe all these presents are being delivered with no names on them and all my friends are content to ignore them and leave them alone and I'm the only one who knows that they're actually time bombs." I mutter into Doll's hair, maybe a bit too bitterly.

Knock it off. That's not helpful, now  _ or _ later. I'm doing this for a fucking  _ reason _ that no one else can really grasp, so it's my fucking responsibility to suck it up and be the villain.

I sigh.

"Yeah. Okay. Enough pity party from me." I say. "Go... write your note. I'll stay here."

I really really  _ really _ don't want to run into whatever version of  _ my _ older brother is here. I can only feel like it will go... terribly.

  
  


They huff a good-natured laugh out of their nose listening to Dirk grumble into their hair.

"Ain't that just the way," they say, with another fond pat to Dirk's bosom. "People are always leavin' messes and somebody's gotta clean 'em up."

They sit up, shrugging themself free of Dirk's cape to go take care of business, make sure their daddy knows they won't be gone forever (right?). Before they get up, though, they catch Dirk's face between gentle hands, pulling him down to press a quick, soft kiss to his lips.

"Okay," they say, pushing themself out of his lap and to standing. "Be right back." They scoop up their shirt and scurry down the stairs and into the apartment, stripping out of their ruined panties once they're inside. The boys still aren't home, so they dump their clothes in a hamper and re-dress themself in a fairly random combination of the four basic elements of their closet (crop top, mini skirt, thigh socks, comfy sneakers), then search around the living room for some kind of notepad.

They end up with a stack of post-its and a crayon, so they leave a series of notes explaining what happened and where they're going like they're Steve and this is fuckin' Blue's Clues, sticking each section one after the other on their Daddy's computer monitor. One last note -  _ don't worry. I love you. _ \- goes on his keyboard.

They linger, for a moment, running their fingers over the top of the note to make sure the adhesive sticks - they don't know why, or what's waiting for them, or even what exactly is compelling them, but they feel like this is something they  _ have _ to do. No matter how much they'll miss their daddy, or their brother. Eventually, they have to force themself to turn away, sliding their shades back down into place as they head back out to the roof.

"You good to go?" they ask, popping their head out the door before the rest of themself. "Trays folded up for takeoff? Seats upright? Dick put away?"

  
  


Huh. Alright.

Doll just straight up kissed me. I wasn't expecting that.

I'm honestly too caught off guard to say anything before Doll heads downstairs, so I lean back against the ventilation unit and stare after them in bemusement.

Alright, then. I'm not quite sure why I  _ didn't _ expect that.

Their lips were... incredibly soft.

  
  
  
  


Moving on.

I guess I can add 'killing a universe' and 'sort-of-kidnapping an alternate universe's sibling' to my list of villainous deeds.

Distantly, I think that Dave would probably be disappointed in me. For multiple reasons.

Ha.

Ouch. That one hurts.

I try to take stock of everything. Narrative, fully responding. Heart powers, not quite like a bruise anymore. More like a.... lesser bruise.

That's so fucking stupid, I really can't come up with anything better? Whatever.

Body? Surprisingly good. Maybe its the unrelenting amount of orgasms I just caused in someone else that made my own so impeccable, but everything feels relaxed and good.

I rise to my feet and fix my clothing and take a breath. The sun has almost set, now, which seems poetic, I could wax on about it but I am sure that none of you, dear voyeuristic readers, would care to read paragraphs about the musings of worlds ending.

I take another breath, savoring the air of this world. It feels vibrant and  _ alive _ . A shame I may have accidentally killed it.

I am sure there are others, though, that remain alive and unimpeded by my presence, narrative of their own or not.

I look as Doll returns to the roof, and they're in an actual set of clothing now, which- makes them look both adorable and  _ highly _ fuckable.

Maybe later. I have a universe to return to.

"Flight Strider is ready for departure." I say, holding a hand out to Doll. "Last chance for additional luggage or sentimental gestures."

  
  


Dirk is dressed and standing by the time they come back, which is good, if a little disappointing - he seemed like he might stare into space in confusion for quite a bit after Doll kissed him, and they had almost hoped to come back to find him in the exact same position they left him in. Ah, well.

They realize somewhat belatedly that this is the first time they've seen him standing up. His outfit looks a little less stupid now that he's standing with confidence, rather than lying down on the floor after eating absolute shit.

He reaches his hand out to Doll and they smile fondly, easily taking his hand and allowing themself to be drawn closer.

"No luggage," they say, "and I did a lot of sentimental jackassery downstairs, you're safe until I recharge my stores."

  
  


"In that case, please remain in place while all switches are flicked and dials are turned," I say, dutifully continuing the joke. "And all passengers will arrive safe and sound."

I hope.

I close my eyes and take Doll's other hand for good measure.

I have no idea how to do this. Perhaps I just... reach out. Reach for the original narrative of my universe and-

Well.

I suppose it really is that simple?

I would expect it to be of more effort.

I squeeze Doll's hands once and then, for the sake of easing Doll through the narrative shift-

I take a single step back and pull them with me.

It feels like nothing at all. It feels like every single word of the narrative is pulled through us all at once until we land right where we're meant to be.

....right where  _ I'm _ meant to be. Back on the ship.

Rose and Terezi can feel our return. My return. Almost simultaneously, on separate sections of the ship, their heads raise and turn towards my room.

None of that is important, though, because Doll is-

Ah.

That's not good.

Doll was never meant to be in this universe. Their aspect, previously dormant, roils and protests at being in a universe where it is not meant to be.

Dirk can feel it lashing out into the narrative. Rolling under Doll's skin, burning through them. Shoving at anything it can touch.

Their aspect, protesting about being forced to the front from shifting through to a new universe, from being yanked into a universe where the narrative touches  _ everything _ .

I catch Doll as they crumple.

"Oh, shit." Is all I can manage to say. "That's not good."

  
  


It's easy, until it's not.

Holding onto Dirk's hands is easy. Following his step is easy. Trusting their brother is easy.

Doll has no opportunity to gauge their surroundings in Dirk's home universe before their fucking head caves in.

Not literally. It feels like the most intense bout of sensory overload Doll has ever experienced; their skin crawls at the slightest brush of their own hair against it, they think they can taste their own teeth - everything is so  _ loud _ . They can't even think with all of it driving a splitting ache right behind their eyes. Anxiety and then nausea and then lightheadedness spike in rapid sequence before their knees give out and they keel gracelessly into their brother.

He catches them, they have to surmise. They don't remember it, because they're fairly certain they passed out for a second. If they didn't, then, well, what a stupid time skip. Like, for what purpose.

"What," Doll manages to grit out, clinging to Dirk's arms as they attempt to get their feet back under them again, "the  _ fuck _ is happening."

  
  


Doll's aspect is getting more and more- furious, may be the term, like a dragon woken from it's slumber.

....Doll is  _ powerful _ . Their power rolls through them, uncontained by classes or the natural state of the universe, a foreign, strange being with no safeguards asides from their power having been meant to be  _ dormant _ .

I need to deal with this  _ immediately. _

Doll has no guards against their own power.

Dirk scoops them up in his arms, carrying them bridal style, remaining standing on his feet even as the sensation of Doll tearing the narration out from his grasp in a blind lash of power rolls over him.

He knows that for their powers to not tear them apart, he needs to find a way of putting those guards in place.

I wrest control of the narrative back into my grip and turn, bringing them over to my bed.

"Try and relax." I say. "I'll fix this."

Doll needs guards.

No.

Doll needs  _ control _ .

There's no time to teach them. I need to  _ create _ them.

I need to make Doll go Godtier.

They have no bed.

They have no quest.

But they have  _ me _ .

Dirk closes his eyes for a moment as Doll's powers lash out again, ripping the narrative away again. He settles them down onto their back on his bed.

He needs to have full narrative control for this to work. He can't waver for even a moment.

"Doll." He murmurs. "Relax. It's alright. I have you."

He smooths their bangs back.

"Close your eyes."

They don't need to see this happen.

  
  


Doll can feel this power, this sheer  _ force _ lashing out, like solar flares, like a child so overcome with pain or emotion that the only thing they can think to do is hit  _ back. _ Doll can feel this power staggering Dirk, too, both in the way his arms tighten around them as he braces himself and in a different, vaguer way - like they can just reach inside what he feels and know.

He lays them on a bed - his bed? probably - and tries to soothe them, but their senses are so lit up that even the gentle brush against their hair has them wincing in discomfort.

" _ Dirk, _ " Doll chokes, reaching to grasp his forearm, to try to ground themself somehow. Instinct tells them that they need to stop this, to contain it and control it. To give Dirk some time to work without dodging random punches of energy. They gasp wetly - oh god, they're crying, how long have they been crying? - and slowly, deliberately, they pull. They pull it all back in, a rolling ball of heat and fury in their core. They don't think they can hold it for long before it bursts back open again.

Their eyes squeeze shut, breath caught and held against the threat of letting it go again, and their fingers dig hard into their brother's arm.

_ JUST DO IT ALREADY, _ their heart screams, drowning in pain and fear and desperation as they keep stuffing down the building threat of bursting apart.

  
  


Doll pulls their power in and it's like a storm underneath their skin.

I can't hesitate. I draw my sword.

"I have you." I whisper as they cling to me.

It's easy enough to twist the narrative to what it needs to be.

I am their quest.

This is their bed.

I can see it in my own mind, I can speak it into the narrative.

Doll lies on their bed, power rolling and twisting like the waves of the ocean.

I sink my sword into their chest. It slides through like butter, severing their heartstrings in an instant and plunging on through to the other side, into their bed.

Doll

go▯es su▯pern▯▯va

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When the narrative returns, I'm lying on my back, staring at the ceiling.

That had been. Explosive.

I don't know if it's because of the fact that Doll was from another universe, never meant to be a Sburb player, or if it's because it was me who brought them here that caused their powers to wake up and ramp out of control.

I sit up and Doll is hovering over the bed and

Oh.

The words ring out in the narrative and I know-

Any who are narratively sensitive will hear them.

The Heir has Risen. All Rejoice.

Doll's an  _ heir _ .

"Doll." I breathe, rising to my feet. "Are you alright?"

  
  


They can feel Dirk's intent to kill them before they hear the ringing of his sword drawing from its sheath. They can also feel his fear, his determination to do this  _ right. _ They can feel his belief that this is the only way.

For all that they can suddenly feel, they barely feel his sword run through them. A little pinch, a little sharpness, the sickening warmth of blood pouring into the cavity of their chest. The power they tried so hard to contain shrinks around the blade, compacting so small and then

  
  
  
  


bursting

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


apart.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


There is nothing but white noise, until there isn't.

Doll comes back to their body still pinned down by their brother's sword, like a pretty butterfly on display in a shadow box. They grasp the handle, drawing it out until they can't reach any further; exhausted, they lie back. Their body pops into transparency as their back hits the bed, nothing but magenta light, nothing but the spirit, the soul - instantly, the light springs back up, coming back into Doll's physical form where they hover above the bed, above the sword and the stain of their blood. They press their hand to their chest to find no wound.

The Heir has risen. All rejoice.

The Heir? They look for Dirk in their confusion to find him on the fucking floor again, staring up at them in - awe? No. Maybe.

He stands, asks if they're alright shortly after, and they give a shaky laugh, slowly floating down until they light gently onto their feet on the bed.

"I think so."

A beat passes.

"So much for not wanting to kill me, huh?"

  
  


I wince, a touch sheepish.

"That was the intent." I say. "I had no idea that bringing you here would cause your dormant aspect to unlock like that and, well-"

I reach out and gently take Doll's hand, sitting on the bed and encouraging them to sit down next to me.

"-through a lot of quick bullshit I was able to circumvent the impending narrative black hole that was probably about to happen."

I pause, then add,

"so, killing you to save you. Congrats, Doll, you're a god now."

  
  


Oh, they feel a little bad for immediately getting on Dirk about killing them. He obviously feels bad about it, too. They take his hand as he reaches out and sit beside him as he continues his explanation; Doll scoops up the absurdly long tail of their hood to roll around their fingers while they listen.

"Well, nicely done avoiding my inevitable implosion," they offer. An  _ ex _ plosion, apparently, had been better.

"A  _ god? _ " they laugh a little, just because it sounds so ridiculous. It makes some kind of sense, they suppose - how else would they have survived? - but a  _ god? _ No. They're just.... Doll.

They blink at the middle distance for a moment, then look down at the tail of their hood in their hands, as if realizing it's there for the first time. They're dressed fully in shades of magenta, just like Dirk. Really?

"The fuck is  _ this _ shit?"

  
  


I can only huff a soft laugh at their question.

"Well," I say, "I wasn't joking about the god thing. Let me-"

The door to my room slams open, because of course it does, and I'm able to get a quick,

"Aliens are real, don't freak out,"

out before Terezi is shoving her nose into my room and saying, "Strider what in the hell did you do and who is this new person on our ship!?"

"Better yet, explain how you forced a Godtier with no bed and no SBURB."

And there's Rose, right behind, of course. I exhale.

"If I promise to explain later will you two go?" I ask, turning to look at them.

Rose, of course, is staring at me with that robotic expression of hers, but I  _ know _ her attention is focused entirely on Doll.

"Nope!" Terezi says with a wide grin.

  
  


Dirk barely gets a word in edgewise before they're barged in on - Doll shrieks over his  _ 'aliens are real' _ clarification and scrambles backward on the bed as an  _ alien with horns and very sharp teeth _ comes in to yell at him. The robot following her does not, in any way, help matters or further explain anything. Doll crouches behind Dirk, peeking out from over the collar of his cape.

Okay, it's kinda funny that their first instinct was to come scold him the moment something weird happens. They wonder how often weird happenings are his fault.

"What's... SBURB?" they ask.

  
  


Rose continues her stare at me and I breathe out a slow breath.

"Right. Explanations." I say. "Doll, the crazy alien bitch is Terezi Pyrope. She's... I'll explain her race later. They're messy and weird and take way too fucking long to explain. The robot is Rose Lalonde, she's my ectobiological sister from a sort-of-different world, it's also complicated."

I pause.

"Everything is so fucking complicated." I grumble. "Terezi, Rose, meet Doll Strider, an alternate-universe sibling of mine from a universe where, as far as I can tell, SBURB doesn't exist."

"Interesting." Rose says, but I ignore her prompt to go on, turning to Doll instead.

"SBURB is a... cosmic tool might be the best way to describe it, in the form of a game that continues the cycle of the universe. It's basically a big bang- our old universe was destroyed and through SBURB a brand new universe was created." I explain. "It's all very philosophical and shit."

  
  


As Dirk makes introductions, Doll nods slowly from behind his shoulder, lifting a hand to wave first at Terezi, then Rose - wait.

"Rose Lalonde? Is related to us??" Doll looks scandalized. "Is Aunt Rose  _ actually _ my aunt? Oh my god." They do not vocalize their distaste for their aunt, out of respect for the robot before them.

Which. Is.

"Is it rude to ask why your sister is a robot?" they whisper.

Slowly, they come out of hiding from behind Dirk to sit normally beside him again, eyes on the new visitors as they listen and nod along to their brother's explanation of SBURB. Like a big bang - no proper capitalization, because it isn't unique. What an odd thought.

"I heard a voice," they say, "before, when I. Came back?" They pause, wondering if that's even an accurate way to describe what happened. "It said 'the Heir has risen.' Is that... me?"

  
  


“Technically speaking Dirk is both my father and my son and I am both his mother and his daughter all at once.” Rose says, but there’s a tiny hint of amusement in her tone, so that’s good. At least she’s not actively trying to kill me for fucking things up.

“No, but I’ll tell you later,” I murmur back, about the robot question. It’s a lot more complicated and will have to tie into the… everything explanation about SBURB.

“Sure is!” Terezi leans on her cane, leering in the direction of Doll. She sniffs a couple of time. “Heart, from what it smells like- I can smell that delicious raspberry pink from all the way over here!”

I have to resist the urge to put my face in my hands.

“Yes.” I say instead. “Rose, Terezi, shoo. I’ll talk to you  _ later _ .” I gently nudge at them through the narrative, impressing on them the idea of not overwhelming Doll with too much and explaining to them everything without having  _ unwanted inputs _ .

Both of them shove right back at me with amusement but leave, Terezi with endless amusement and Rose with the grace of someone leaving because they are  _ choosing _ to leave and not because I am telling them to.

“Okay, Jesus.” I sigh and wave a hand in the vague direction of my door. “Now you’ve met the crazy broads I put up with.” I shift to face Doll fully on the bed.

“Right. Explanations.” I hold my hands up, palms flat open. “Welcome to being a god, there’s two parts. Class-” I raise my first hand, “and aspect.” I indicate with the other.

“Your class is Heir and your aspect is Heart.” I say. “Which means as a god, you’re the Heir of Heart. The godhood system is a big fucking miss-matched grab bag of things. There’s a literal gross of different possible godhoods, but so far we haven’t seen any duplicates.”

“See, Rose out there is a Seer of Light, Terezi’s a Seer of Mind- and I’m a Prince of Heart.”

  
  


Doll simply nods at Rose’s impossible explanation, eyes wide but brows clearly wrinkled in distress. “And a robot,” they add, unhelpfully, their voice airy and faraway. They nod again as Dirk says he’ll explain the robot thing later. They doubt it will make sense.

Terezi’s voice startles them, and they jump a little as she chimes in to confirm that they’re the Heir, and comments on the scent of their… color? Doll’s face twists in further confusion, and they experimentally lift their shirt to their nose to smell it. It doesn’t smell like anything.

Dirk dismisses both girls, and Doll watches as they both leave but clearly not because he  _ told _ them to. Perhaps he’s more used to people not taking his dramatics in full seriousness than Doll thought earlier in his lap.

Before they  _ died, _ holy shit.

Dirk shifts to face Doll, so Doll turns in kind, mirroring his position. He starts to explain the pieces of their god… title? and what they mean. Okay, class and aspect. That’s pretty easy. Some RPG shit, basically. Except they don’t know what the classes or aspects  _ do. _

“Okay,” they say. “So - what is an Heir, though? Like, a Seer, that makes sense as a class. A seer sees. What’s my function? What’s a  _ Prince’s _ function?”

“Also,” they add, as an afterthought, “why Heart?”

  
  


“Why Heart? No fucking clue.” I say, dropping my hands. “Something arbitrary about like… character traits or who you are as a person or some bullshit like that. We’re both Heart, but we’re both pretty different people.”

I sit back on my hands. “Of course,” I continue, “that seems to largely be because of our classes- which defines our powers and our  _ function _ . Classes also are affected by personalities and shit- Rose and Terezi are different aspects and completely different personalities, but they’re also nosey broads who like knowing more than everyone else- so, Seers fit them both.”

“Seer is pretty self-explanatory, you’re right- Light is like… knowledge and luck and shit, so Rose is able to actively seek out information and probably stuff with luck, though I’m not too sure on how that one plays in to her powers.”

“Mind is obviously about decisions, that one’s also pretty easy- Terezi’s scary good at predicting outcomes based on decision making and how things will play out. That’s her power- she’s also not Godtier so her abilities are naturally more limited than ours since she didn’t awaken.”

“As for Heir…” I lean back on my hands, humming. “Well, with Heir- We have a Heir of Breath- wind and freedom and shit- and he can… quite literally become the breeze and is also pretty much impossible to fucking pin down. He’s basically freedom incarnate.”

“Which means that as an Heir of Heart, you’ll probably be along the same line- embodying emotions, soul, that kind of stuff. We’ll find out eventually what your actual power are, but that’s pretty much going to be your domain.”

“As for myself, as a Prince, it’s my job to destroy. That’s the long and short of it.”

  
  


Dirk has a  _ lot _ to say, so Doll settles in to listen, leaning forward on their hands as Dirk leans back, one foot swinging where it hangs over the edge of the bed.

God, they have a lot of clothes on. This sucks.

They nod along as they absorb the information - Terezi and Rose both seek out knowledge by nature, therefore Seer, although Rose’s aspect seems to support that much more clearly. Terezi’s abilities sound interesting, too.

“Terezi’s not a god, then?” they ask. “How do you get your title before the god… stuff?”

“Become,” they murmur, thoughtfully, as Dirk describes their Heir of Breath. “Okay.”

They laugh a little - they can’t help it. “Shocking, right? The kid who grew up with a Strider dad and  _ still _ couldn’t suppress their feelings ends up being the god of Being Feelings?” They roll their eyes, clearly at their own self. “Jesus Christ.” They flop backwards onto the bed, avoiding Dirk’s sword to sprawl dramatically across the mattress. They ask the ceiling: “Am I a joke to you?”

“A Prince… destroys?” Doll’s eyebrows raise. They hadn’t expected that - if anything, it sounded like an Heir was just a gender neutral matching title to a Prince. They sit up on their elbows to look up at Dirk’s face again. “Destroys what?”

  
  


“Well, everyone involved in SBURB has the  _ potential _ to ascend to Godhood. Terezi’s just… didn’t happen. I don’t know the full story there.” I explain. “I’ll tell you more about SBURB in a bit since  _ that’s _ an entire clusterfuck of an… everything.”

I watch them flop into the bed. “Probably.” I agree. “The Great Cosmic Narrative loves irony and also making people into jokes. Don’t think about it too much or it’ll drive you insane.”

“Destroys their aspect.” I offer a humorless little laugh. “Of course, that’s debatable- I sure as fuck did it to myself for years until, well- shit happened.” I give a little shrug. “I wouldn’t be surprised if your Dirk has the same issue with breaking himself into pieces- did he ever try and make an AI?”

  
  


Right. They didn’t do this traditionally. It feels strange, to come in and become a god without knowing the first thing about how any of this works, when Terezi and people like her participated from the start and couldn’t make it happen. It feels unfair.

“Ha,” they say. “There’s that narrative shit again.”

“Pffff -!” Oh, they can’t help it. Dirk seems serious about his function, but god, it’s  _ really _ funny. “Cosmically assigned heartbreaker,” they eventually wheeze.

“What, like Hal? Yeah, Dirk got weird about him a while back but that’s mostly because Hal decided to delete Dirk’s memories in order to become his own person? I think?? And then Dirk had a crisis about indirectly killing not-himself.” This is too much information. “Sorry. That was probably weird to hear.”

“Anyway, how does that give you your - your weird Narrative Control thing?” they ask, eyes squinting suspiciously at their brother. “It doesn’t seem like it follows your whole…” they wave their hand in a circle, as if gesturing to all of Dirk, “… deal.”

  
  


I digest the entire bit about Hal and feel a brief flicker of mourning for my own AI. Left behind with the other sprites in the game.

“Yeah, that sounds about right.” I murmur, before shaking my head.

“This brings us into a complicated topic- namely, Ultimate selves. Basically the next step up from Godtier which not everyone makes it to. So far, it’s just me and Rose.” I explain. “Becoming an Ultimate self, it’s, well…”

I hum a little, trying to put it to words.

“So our universe deals with something called Paradox Space- a big fucking jumbled mess of all of our universes kept stable by the force of SBUR- as well as numerous timelines all splitting off from our current one, which is called the Alpha Timeline.” I say. “In any given instance, someone is just that one version of them in the timeline.”

“You become an Ultimate self when you reach across all the different timelines and become a sum of all of your different parts. Like a big fucking sandwich but it’s all yourself. So far, with two out of two of us ascended, we’ve both gained a heavy awareness of the Narrative, though I have much more intrinsic control over it that Rose does.”

“I suspect it’s because of our classes, but I don’t know for sure, yet. Terezi also has an awareness of the narrative, so there’s that, too.”

“As for Rose being a robot, this ties into Ultimate selves- as a Heart player, I was able to, essentially, deal with all my other timeline bits since I’ve been processing splinters and fragments for years and I was able to keep myself together. Rose was not so lucky- her body was breaking apart and deteriorating, so I built a robot to house her consciousness.”

  
  


Doll’s heart clenches for Dirk - he must have a Hal himself, or  _ had _ . They can practically feel the loss - they scootch their way back over to Dirk, gently laying a hand on his arm.

They idly stroke their thumb over Dirk’s skin as he explains Ultimate selves. It doesn’t make… a whole lot of sense, but nothing about SBURB feels sensical to Doll. They feel keenly aware that they were built under different cosmic rules than the ones Dirk is explaining to them now, the ones that allowed them to become a  _ god. _

“Damn,” they sigh, eventually. “So, Rose is a robot because she went ultimate, and it was… killing her? And it didn’t kill you, because you just… are used to different versions of yourself?” They squint up at Dirk. “Y’all deal with a lot of, like, just straight  _ bullshit _ from the structure of your universe, y’know. I mean, I dealt with paparazzi, so like, jury’s out on which is worse, really, but  _ Jesus _ .”

Doll's touch is. Nice. I absent-mindedly put my hand over theirs and squeeze lightly.

Wow. Doll really does bring out the touchy-feely sentimental side of me. I'm not sure how to feel about that, really.

The paparazzi bit makes me huff a laugh- on Earth C I never really had to deal with any hero worship as the local standoffish recluse- but some of the others very much had to deal with it.

"Pretty much." I agree. "You ready to hear about even more bullshit?"

I take Doll's hand, tuck my feet up on the bed underneath me, criss-cross-apple-sauce style, and say,

"Let me tell you about SBURB..."

**Author's Note:**

> Doll belongs to and is played by Ectothermal. Dirk is played by [@LPSunnyBunny](http://www.twitter.com/LPSunnyBunny)!


End file.
